Ameliora
by ArchFaith
Summary: At the Battle of Endor, Vader is transformed into a young Anakin by a regenerator. Ch 17: Two vessels approach Naboo. Dengar's ship with Anakin and Leia, and the Falcon with Han and Padme. Getting onto Naboo without being noticed...another story entirely!
1. Regeneration

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Author's Note: Just an idea I had bouncing around in my head for a while…it needs to be written, before I go insane. I hope you all enjoy it…this is only my second SW fanfic, so let's hope it's a good one!

Ameliora

Chapter 1: Regeneration

by ArchFaith

_One month before the Battle of Endor._

It was a large, cylinder-shaped machine; built of various metals fused together for their combined power, the outside was smooth and shiny. Various plates were missing from the surface, exposing the multitude of wires and chargers within. A simple panel was the machine's only exterior decoration, save for a switch to open its hatch—the panel was simple, with only four buttons and a number gauge. One could enter the machine through a small hatch that slid aside to let one through; the inside was hollow, and big enough to fit a creature the size of a Hutt. The interior was lit with bright yellow bulbs attached to the machine's inner ceiling—it was deceptively plain within, and betrayed nothing of the machine's true power.

_Such power, _he thought, from deep within his ghost-like mask. _It could very well be used to my advantage, without the Emperor's knowledge…_

"Lord Vader?" A young scientist had appeared next to him, his voice slightly cracking as he addressed the dark lord of the Sith for the first time in his lowly life. "My lord…I was told that you had some questions about the regenerator…I am at your command."

Vader looked impatiently behind him, just in time to observe the young officer's terrified face. "Yes," he replied after a few seconds' pause. "I am sure that your team has properly examined the device. Has it been confirmed?" asked the low, booming voice.

The scientist nodded in resigned submission. "Yes, my lord," he answered. "It is an authentic age regeneration mechanism, built with molecular restructuring capabilities."

The dark lord looked back to the looming, circular device. "From what period?"

"We are unsure, my lord. It seems to have been built about three hundred to three hundred and twenty-five years ago. We believe that it may have been developed by a group of politicians on Coruscant; there were records that were found with the machine that indicate its funding. It was commissioned to be built in a secret laboratory on Coruscant by a scientist who specialized in regenerative surgery. We were lucky enough to find it during a scrap retrieval operation last month."

"The names of these politicians…the scientist?"

"We were not able to find these out, my lord…they were careful to erase all information about themselves after the machine was deemed unstable. They were probably fearful of being noticed by the Senate for their illegal experiments on prisoners."

_No matter_, Vader thought, looking back to the device. _It is here, and within my grasp. _"What are its supposed capabilities?" he asked, turning back to the young scientist.

"According to these scant notes," the officer began, looking down at his data screen, "it can regenerate lost cells and tissue from existing molecular information. The machine had previously been tested on lower life forms, such as Hutts and Wookies, but proved fatal when administered to humans. Apparently it can reverse the aging process, as well as regenerate lost limbs and other extremities."

"A restorer of youth, it would seem," Vader said reflectively. "This could prove useful to us, then. Officer, I want your team ready to service and test this device within a month's time. I am sure the Emperor will be most pleased if you were able to successfully administer this device to humans. I want this device brought aboard the second Death Star at once."

"Yes, my lord," the young officer replied meekly, bowing as he turned to leave the room.

Vader turned to exit, but cast a last glance at the machine before he left. _I can yet be restored,_ he told himself in a calm, yet impatient tone. _It would not be fitting to assume control of the galaxy behind this mask. No…if everything goes as planned, Luke and I will assume control of the galaxy in youthful age, together._

He smiled behind his mask.

-

_The present—the Battle of Endor_

"Father!"

Vader forced his eyes open at the sound of his son's voice. The boy's youthful face hovered only inches away from his own; between the mask that separated them, he could see tears welling up from the corners of his son's eyes.

Vader was still shaking; his body, wracked with the powerful electricity of the now-dead Emperor's convulsing attacks, was weakened almost to the point of death. He could hardly speak, and even moving a limb was out of the question, now. The cybernetics within his body had been damaged by the wild lightning; his life systems were slowly draining, and it was all he could do to take weak, respirator-damaged breaths.

"Luke," he whispered, wishing he could see his son's face without his mask. The boy blinked down at him as a single tear traced its way down his pale cheek.

"Don't talk," Luke answered firmly. Vader did not respond, and Luke took the opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist. "We're getting out of here…together."

Vader shook his head in self-deprecation. "It is too late for me, Luke…go. It is over….leave me here to die."

"No," his son answered firmly, shifting himself into a sitting position. "Come," he whispered, slowly pulling Vader up with him. "I won't leave you here."

"Luke," Vader chided once again, motioning him to leave. "You—"

"I won't leave you." Luke's voice was gentle, yet unyielding. In the space of a moment Vader realized he had no choice—Luke would either force him up, or they would both end up dying as the second Death Star's core convulsed and folded on itself. Luke's life depended on how quickly he and Vader could make it to a shuttle; it was clear that his son was not going to abandon him. Vader had to save himself—for Luke's sake.

With a groan, Vader shifted into a squatting position, and together they managed to pull him up off the floor. "Put your arm around my shoulder," Luke said, guiding Vader's still-shaking hand. "I don't know how to get out of here…you'll need to tell me."

Vader nodded weakly. "Alright," he agreed, suddenly feeling an incredible deluge of protectiveness wash over him. He looked over to his son—the child he thought dead for so many years; no, one of his two children he thought dead. He had not known that there had been another child—a daughter. So they were both alive and prosperous…Obi-Wan had done well to hide them from him…

"Which way?" Luke asked frantically. They had advanced but a few paces, into the small elevator that connected to the late Emperor's throne room. A sickening crunch sounded beneath the room's metal walkways as they almost fell into the elevator, Luke supporting nearly all of Vader's weight as another wrenching crack shook the Death Star's core.

Vader raised his head slightly, looking at the small control panel attached to the wall. "Go to the forty-fifth level…the evacuation shuttles are located in the hangar there…" he whispered. Luke had already punched in the appropriate commands as the elevator began to move downwards.

Panting with exhaustion, Luke helped Vader to kneel against the cold metal floor, keeping a hand on his shoulder the entire time. "What if the guards try to stop us?" he asked, looking over to his father.

"They will not dare," Vader answered. "Besides, the evacuation signal has already been given—they will be too busy trying to save their own skins."

Luke nodded, with slight apprehension. "We'll take a shuttle then…I'll pilot it back to Endor, and then we'll…" his voice died as he realized to whom he would be bringing Vader back to. "We'll just take it from there," he finished quickly.

"Your Rebel friends will not exactly be warm to you once they realize that you are harboring the most heinous man in the galaxy, Luke," Vader replied coolly.

Luke shook his head. "It doesn't matter what they think." He had come too far, sacrificed too much, to give up this time with his father. It was a reunion that was twenty-three years overdue; he would be damned if even the Rebel Alliance, his closest allies, tried to take his moment away from him. Once he and Vader arrived on Endor, he would decide what would need to be done. Even if it meant hiding Vader from the alliance, he would find a way to keep his presence undetected. Emotion overcame his reason—even though, only mere minutes earlier, Vader had the very person he wanted to destroy, now he had become the life that Luke was intent on saving.

The elevator suddenly shook, and with a spasm, stopped dead. The lights flickered on and off within, and Luke could smell the odor of burning metal seeping through the pores of the metal grid below them. He looked over to the control panel; not the forty-fifth level, as Vader had instructed, but only the fifty-first.

He cursed under his breath as Vader looked up at the panel. Luke quickly rose to his feet and examined the small panel of buttons. The smell of electrical wires lent a pungent odor to the room; in vain, Luke ran his hands over the switches. They had all ceased to work; the lights flickered on and off in the cramped room, and Luke pounded his fists down on the panel in frustration. _We're never going to get out of here_, he told himself. _I have to open the door…_

There was no doubt that Vader could have wrenched the door open with his bare hands—if he had been in a fit condition, that was. Now a crumpled, dying figure hunched over on the floor of the elevator, he was unable even to stand on his own. Luke shook his head incredulously. No; he would have to open the doors himself.

Turning to the metal doors of the elevator, he calmed his mind and let his brain focus on the task at hand. They had to get out of the elevator; he somehow had to pry the doors open before the cables supporting the elevator snapped altogether. It would only be a matter of minutes now…

He closed his eyes; the vaporous odors of the burning wires, the continual explosions shaking the now-swinging elevator, the labored noises of Vader's dying breaths—he pushed the disturbing atmosphere away from his mind. He recalled the swamp in Dagobah, recalled Yoda's small yet powerful frame, and the advice the aged Jedi Master had given him those many months before.

_Do, or do not. There is no try._

Though his eyes were closed, he could see the elevator's metal doors clearly now; raising his arm, he held his hand out, palm side up, towards the door. A Jedi cannot falter.

_I will not try. I will do._

With a surge of mental strength, he crunched his hand into a fist—the actions of his body paralleled those of his target. When he opened his eyes, the metal door looked as though it had been crumpled like a piece of paper. The mental exercise had taken much energy out of him.; sighing, he gathered his strength for a moment before turning back to his father.

Vader had been watching with a quiet hopefulness; so, the boy had indeed learned the ways of the Jedi. But for one with such scant training as he—to have crushed open the metal door with simply a gesture of his hand…! It had taken years for Vader himself to perfect the motions of this crushing attack, and Luke…

"Yoda has indeed taught you well, young one," he said, as Luke helped him to his feet. "You are indeed very powerful."

"He was a good teacher," Luke answered absently, kicking aside the remaining pieces of the door that blocked their way. They quickly stepped through, with no time to waste—as soon as Vader's cape had billowed out of the doorway, a snapping noise was heard from below. Luke scarcely had time to look behind him as the elevator dropped, leaving only a smoking shaft of wires behind.

Turning his attention to the task at hand, he quickly looked around. They stood in a darkened hallway, a wide corridor with only a few doors on either side. Tall, arched metal beams framed the length of the hall, lending an imposing look to the cold, sterile environment. "Father…how do we get down from here?" Luke asked, turning to the dark lord.

"There is a stairway at the end of the hall," Vader answered, with difficulty. He felt the respirator's emergency air supply suddenly cut off; in a frantic gesture, he tightened his grasp around Luke's neck. Luke turned to him in alarm; just as quickly, Vader felt the air pump back into his lungs, and relaxed his grip. "Are you alright?!" Luke demanded.

"For now," Vader answered in relief. "Come, let's hurry."

The two struggled down the corridor, Luke supporting most of Vader's weight against his own as they walked down the dark corridor, the explosions now and then jarring the floor and ceiling. Luke's mind was entirely focused on getting down to the end of the hallway—he almost pulled Vader along with him as he hurried them down the corridor. Once they got to the stairs, they would need to descend six flights down, and from there…

Vader's mind, however, was focused on something completely different. In his clouded, weak state, he had barely noticed that this was the laboratory wing. It was, of course, deserted by now—not even the enormous salary the Emperor's scientists were paid could keep them from staying at their posts after even the slightest disturbance. Did this mean…?

They passed a door which had been left open, no doubt by one of the escaping scientists; Vader motioned Luke to stop, and turned his head towards the open doorway. "Luke…bring me to that room."

Luke looked back, puzzled. "Why? We need to get out of here."

The dark lord's voice was weak as he tried to struggle out of Luke's grasp. "Just take me there, son," he commanded gently. "What lies in that room could help us more than you could ever imagine."

Shaking his head in doubt, Luke turned and ambled back towards the doorway. He and Vader stepped inside the large, darkened room, completely bare save for a large, cylindrical structure in the corner. It looked to be some sort of machine—completely smooth on the outside, save for a switch to open a doorway, and a panel with some buttons and a gauge on it.

They would only have one opportunity, Vader thought to himself as he and Luke neared the device. If the machine failed, Vader would die—not that he was not about to live, anyway. What had he to lose? Either he would die passively, in the arms of his son in one of the corridors of the collapsing Death Star—or he could die actively, trying to renew himself within the mysterious regeneration mechanism. He would not let himself expire so easily.

"Put me in this machine, Luke," he commanded.

"What are you trying to do?" Luke asked impatiently. "We're wasting time!"

"If this is successful, young one, you and I will have much to be thankful for," Vader said cryptically, reaching towards the switch on the machine's surface. The hatch slid open, and Vader anxiously tried to advance within. "Hurry," he whispered. "We do not have much time…"

Confused and angry, Luke almost shoved Vader into the machine, his breathing quickening as he knelt upon the floor of the mechanism. His torn black cape scraped against the side of the door, ripped and fell like a sheet of darkness against the floor outside the machine. Luke propped him against the inner walls before stepping out himself; looking at the panel set against the machine's smooth surface, he cast a puzzled eye towards his father. "What should I do?"

Vader had spent too long in the laboratory observing the scientists at their work; breathing heavily, he raised his head. "Push all the buttons," he instructed. _This is going to be a difficult job._

Luke did as he was told, and quickly noticed that the number gage read zero. "Should I put a number in?" he almost screamed as another explosion ripped through the bowels of the Death Star. Stumbling slightly, he gripped the doorway of the mechanism as Vader felt himself shake once again in a slight convulsion.

"Put in the number twenty-two," he said. "Then close the hatch."

Luke quickly adjusted the numbers, and then turned to the switch. "Father…just tell me what this thing is going to do to you!" he called.

Vader shook his head. "Time will tell you in the end. Hurry…close it."

Luke flipped the switch; the hatch clamped shut, leaving Vader in a claustrophobic blackness.

-

It was pitch black within; for one second, Vader felt as though entombed. A creeping fear had begun to well up inside him when the lights inside the machine suddenly flickered on. He heard a slight whirring of the machine's mechanisms, and felt a low hum sound within the small chamber.

This would be the final test; only a few days earlier, the scientists had successfully been able to regenerate the arms and legs of a Twi'lek prisoner, who had been injured during a prior battle. Still, the machine remained untested upon humans; Twi'leks were humanoid, true, but still not the same species. The scientists had made some adjustments to the mechanism since then, intending to test it upon a human prisoner.

_I will be the subject_, Vader thought grimly as the machine's systems woke from their dormant state. _We will see whether I can survive this procedure._

A cold electronic voice sounded within the walls of the machine. "Clothing and armor have been detected. Commencing disintegration."

Vader shut his eyes and braced himself. The walls of the machine glowed bright red for just an instant; Vader felt the cloth and leather of his bodysuit melt off his body, along with the reinforced shoulder blades and padding against his chest. The cold mask seemed to turn into ask upon his face—the mask that, for so long, had been his refuge as well as his life support.

It was an odd feeling; it did not hurt, but he felt a strange tingling within him as he struggled to sit up, the cybernetic arms and legs now visible against his pale, naked body. The respirator which connected his lungs to an oxygen monitor built into his side looked damaged and raw. It had been so long since he had seen himself like this…

"Cybernetic additions to the body have been detected. Commencing disintegration of metals and electronics."

_Now this is going to hurt._

In the next second, he felt as though his arms and legs had been ripped off his body a second time—the machine did its duty well, cleanly ripping the cyborg limbs from his burnt flesh, leaving chunks of dead skin strewn about the floor and cutting open veins and arteries that had been artificially sealed. The respirator's tubes were roughly pulled out of his mouth, as was the monitor built into his side—as he threw his head back to scream, no sound emerged. His tongue rolled out of his mouth, gasping for air as he tried to scream in vain.

_Luke! Luke! _he thought, closing his eyes as a copious pool of blood began to form beneath him, oozing out of the torn stump of his body. Through the Force, he felt the boy respond; from outside, he was trying desperately to stop the mechanism's forces, to no avail. He felt his father's pain; Vader could feel his anguish cry out in pain with him. There was no turning back, not any longer…

"Rebuilding of tissues is set. Limb reconstruction is set. Bodily restructuring is set. Age regeneration is set to twenty-two. Commencing procedure."

As he gagged on the blood that was now pouring out of his mouth, the walls of the chamber again began to change—Vader dimly saw the colors change from red to blue to orange, and back again as he lay slumped on the floor of the machine.

He gasped for air once again, and was utterly astonished to realize that he could now breathe—yet no respirator was attached to his body. His lungs filled with the life-giving air, and he breathed in deeply, crying out in relief with a deep, low groan.

He felt a spinning sensation on all sides of his body, as if he were being woven into a long, epic tapestry by the hands of skilled mechanical loom; opening his azure blue eyes, his blurry vision noted the robotic needles and scissors that had emerged from the walls of the mechanism. They seemed to be lightly scraping against his skin; first against his chest, then down to the stumps of his arms, and over down to his leg sockets. It was an almost calming feeling; though he felt a whirring inside his brain, he let himself drift off into a lazy stupor as the robotic appendages spun over his body, suddenly feeling new pieces of flesh molding into his existing veins and exposed bones.

He was still shaking; it seemed like an eternity before the appendages seemed to wind up their operations, and slowly retreated back into the walls of the machine. Sighing with his new lungs, Vader forced his eyes open as the machine's lights dimmed. "Procedure is complete," the voice said as the hatch slid open. Vader jumped to his feet in preparation—there was no time to lose.

-

The outside of the machine was a complete mess; smoke had erupted out of the panel, and several exposed wires had blown their fuses as Luke had heard the various stages of the "procedure" being performed inside. His father's incredible pain and torture had caused him to try to break the machine open; nothing Vader could have possibly hoped for was worth this pain!

"Father!" he yelled in alarm as the hatch opened. He readied himself for what he would find there; a dead stump of flesh, bleeding from all its pores with its mouth frozen open in a silent cry of pain. His father had died for nothing…he had…

Smoke billowed out of the hatch in waves; coughing, Luke surged through the smoke, clearing it with his hands as he tried to peer into the dark chamber. "Father!" he screamed, tears streaming down his face. It was all over now—

A hand suddenly emerged out of the grey, steaming smoke; a human arm, with tanned muscular skin reached out to grope against Luke's shoulder. Luke almost jumped back in surprise—by this time, the smoke had begun to clear, and Luke saw the kneeling figure materialize out of the darkness as he himself fell to the floor outside the chamber.

_"Father?!"_

Vader smiled weakly; he felt the muscles of his cheeks stretch as he peered up at his astonished son. "Good work, Luke," he whispered mildly, bemused by Luke's stunned expression. Their two pairs of blue eyes met for the first time in their lives.

"It's me, Luke…it's Anakin."

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Vader is no more…he is Anakin Skywalker once again, and he and Luke must find a way out of the Death Star before it collapses upon itself. Will they make it in time? Stay tuned!

End notes: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter of my "God knows how many chapters" Star Wars fanfic. Yeah, I realize that the concept of a "regeneration mechanism" may be a little corny, but honestly…with all the cheesy cloning technology in the SW universe, I wanted a break. I really wanted to write a fanfic in which Luke and Anakin interact, not Luke and Vader (even though they're the same person). This was the only way I saw possible to do it, besides one of those Force-ghost haunting kind of scenarios. Please review, and let me know if you're liking my story so far!

The title "Ameliora" was taken from the English word "ameliorate", which means "to make better". I shortened the word because I wanted something exotic; just out of coincidence, I looked up the word "ameliora", and it is an actual Romanian word which means "to improve". It really makes sense in the context of this story.


	2. Bonds

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 2: Bonds

by ArchFaith

His skin was lightly tanned, and seemed darkened by the light of a sun; he was slender yet muscular, his sinewy limbs long and lean. His wavy hair started out blonde at the roots, and resolved into a light brownish hue which tapered just above his shoulders. And his eyes—azure blue, just like those of his son.

Flashing a weak smile, Vader—Anakin—tried to rise. In one instant, however, he felt his conscious mind suddenly leaving him—closing his eyes, he fell forwards, fainting in exhaustion from the strenuous regenerative process.

Luke caught him, and was dazed for a few seconds before realizing that they had to move. So this—this was his father? He had indeed been age-regressed; at twenty-two years of age, this was what he had been? Luke had scarcely thought of Vader as anything more than a formerly human cyborg in a suit of black armor—he had tried to imagine what his father had looked like before, and failed. Seeing that his father had actually been human—that there was actually some resemblance between them, after all—was incredible. So Anakin had blue eyes as well…

He was knocked out of his reverie by another explosion, jarring the floor on which he knelt with the naked young man, still in a swoon from the machine's process. There was no time to waste—Luke could wonder all he wanted, but he could ask questions later. They had to move quickly.

He noticed that a large piece of Vader's—Anakin's—cape had been ripped off before he was put in the chamber, and now lay on the floor next to them. Quickly gathering it up, he hastily wrapped it around Anakin's naked form as another smaller explosion caused the machine before them to shake and shiver. Even in an unconscious state, Anakin—for he could not be called Vader any longer—seemed to be testing out control of his facial muscles. Eyes still closed, he knit his eyebrows in a worried sort of expression as Luke tried to determine if he could successfully carry him. "Luke," he muttered, in a youthful, unfiltered voice. "I can't walk…"

"I know," Luke answered. It felt strange to be talking to his father like this; especially, in terms of age, his father was now one year younger than him. He felt almost as if he were talking to his brother as opposed to his father. Gently, Luke scooped Anakin up from the floor, holding him almost as one would hold a sleeping child. Anakin was not exactly light, but he light enough that Luke could swing his sinewy legs over his arms; his head lolled against Luke's shoulder as Luke rose.

_Right down the hallway, _Luke thought as he exited the room, walking as quickly as he could down the corridor. Anakin had collapsed back into an unconscious state; his lower body was wrapped in the thin cape, yet he shivered from the cold of the dark hall. _He hasn't felt cold in twenty years._

The door to the stairway was open; Luke rushed through and almost hurtled down the stairs with Anakin, as they descended down multiple flights. Darkened stairwell opened on darkened stair; though it was only six flights down it seemed like an eternity before Luke found a sign that read, in freshly-inscribed Aurebesh, "Level 45". He quickly punched the buttons on the door, and the doorway slid open.

Anakin had been right about the guards and stormtroopers; they were too busy evacuating to even care that a young Rebel was trying to escape as well. Normally, a member of the sworn enemy party, kidnapping what seemed to be a man of his own age, would have been the cause of much investigation. But the Empire was not known for hiring intelligent servants, and Luke ran relatively unnoticed into the hangar; where ten or fifteen shuttles stood waiting for their troops. All around him, guards rushed away from their posts, followed by suspicious-looking superior officers, who every now and then looked around themselves to make sure that one would be impeding their escape.

Luke chose the shuttle closest to where they had exited; dodging behind some crates of supplies, he chose the opportune time when the stormtroopers decided to look away to quickly board the ship. Running up the gangway, Anakin still in a faint against his shoulder, he barely had time to look back before a laser shot narrowly missed his back. He quickly closed the gangway by pushing a switch; the stormtroopers had noticed him, but it was too late.

In a wild state of energy, he hastily set Anakin down on one of the bunks near the back of the shuttle; hurrying to the cockpit, he set himself down and flipped one a couple of switches. Setting the autopilot at top speed to Endor, he buckled himself down and braced himself for the rough departure.

He heard several more blaster shots; the ship took quite a bit from the stormtroopers, who quickly realized that a precious evacuation shuttle was stolen right under their noses. Still, the ship was able to lift off from the hangar, and glided gently out of the hangar into space before gaining speed.

Panting with stress and exhaustion, Luke quickly turned the communications systems on, and scanned the area looking for a possible ally. He quickly found it; the Millenium Falcon's communication system was linked up to a private channel, and remembering the Alliance's code for communication, he quickly established a link between the old ship he had grown to know so well. Knowing that they were on the lookout for any Imperial ships, he worked quickly to secure his safe passage.

"Lando!" he called, screaming into the comlink. "Don't fire! It's me, Luke…I got off the Death Star with this shuttle, do not shoot! Scan this ship and give the immunity signal to the rest of the troops."

Lando's suave voice buzzed back to him. "Got you, Luke…hear that, everyone?" he asked, evidently addressing the rest of the Rebel fleet on a different frequency. "Commander Skywalker's in an Imperial shuttle, identification number six-eight-seven-nine-seven-six. This shuttle is officially off-limits to the fleet, hear me? Let him pass!"

After a brief pause Lando's voice returned. "You're all clear, Luke…get on back to Endor, they're waiting for you!"

"Will do," Luke answered. "Be careful, old friend." He heard a slight chuckle over the comlink as the connection closed.

Falling back with a sigh, in a few minutes he saw the Falcon and several dozen x-wings whiz by him on their way to destroy the Death Star—they cleared a path for him through space, and he saw the green moon floating in the distance. They would arrive in a little under an hour and a half, and the autopilot would guide them safely to a landing strip near the Imperial bunker, where the Rebels had set up a temporary base.

They were safe.

Luke let out a sigh, and fell back in the pilot's seat trying to catch his breath. His chest was heaving from exhaustion, and his hair was slick against his sweating face. With a slight groan, he sat up once again, trying to contain his composure; there was someone who yet needed his assistance. He stood up, and quickly exited the cockpit. Passing several small supply closets equipped with medicine and rations, he reached the back area of the shuttle. Several bunks had been built into the wall—Anakin lay sprawled on out one of them, his eyes flickering open and shut as he stared up at the wall.

Anakin had been conscious for a few minutes now—he was aware that he lay in the back of an evacuation shuttle, and that they had escaped the Death Star. He tested out his eyesight with an amused, subtly ecstatic joy—he could see. He could see without the aid of a mask, without electronic receptors built into his eyes. He had lain, staring up at the ceiling of the shuttle, as he felt a slight movement in the Force. Luke had entered the room; it was all Anakin could do to turn his head to stare at him.

Luke crossed the room and settled down at the foot of the bunk, looking Anakin over with a critical eye. Anakin flashed him a half-smile, a secretive sort of expression that was immediately reminiscent of Han's grins. Luke found himself in denial once more—this truly could not be Darth Vader who lay before him in the form of a slender, blonde young man…could it?

"We're out of trouble…aren't we?" Anakin asked, in a tired, yet youthful voice.

Luke nodded. "I'm taking this shuttle back to Endor."

Anakin nodded vacantly. "Alright," he said, before closing his eyes again. "Thanks, Luke…for listening to me when I told you to put me in that thing."

"So it was a regenerative device?"

"Yeah," Anakin whispered, and it almost shocked Luke to hear his father talk so informally. "The Empire got a hold of it a few months ago…I had it brought aboard the Death Star so that I could eventually use it as well. Good thing the elevator broke."

It was almost as if Vader had completely disappeared; though some of the formalities still remained, Anakin seemed to have regressed back to his old attitudes as well. He seemed warm, and suddenly open, as Luke felt some new feelings emanate from him, through the Force.

_We're alive._

Luke felt Anakin's inner soul ebbing within him, with a quiet kind of joy. He looked back to the young man who still lay sprawled out on the bunk. He was no longer Darth Vader—he retained of all Vader's thoughts and memories, but the two seemed to have been split in twain. Anakin had drifted off into a light sleep; though he slept, Luke could feel still feel the ecstatic glee within.

Luke smiled, silently letting his mind rejoice with his father's youthful nature. It was as if the roles had been reversed; Anakin, prostrate and vulnerable on the bunk, now seemed more in need of protection than Luke had been. With a sign, he reached out and tousled Anakin's disheveled hair; his father furrowed his eyebrows in sleep, before settling into a comfortable slumber.

He had many questions to ask his father now—about his life before the Empire, about their mother, about Obi-Wan and the fight that had transformed him into Darth Vader. But not now. The time would soon come for that. For now, they both needed rest. To say it had been a day would be an understatement.

Luke reached out, and punched a switch set into the wall. At once, a newly-made bunk slid out of the wall opposite Anakin's. Quickly settling into the second bunk, he had barely slid his boots off his feet before he sank into a well-deserved slumber.

-

_The face seized with terror…her grieving, tear-stained eyes…the obvious curve of her stomach, where her hands moved so protectively…_

A sudden crackling over the comlink was enough to arouse Anakin from his light sleep; he had been resting fitfully, and was not able to fully energize himself at all. The regenerator had taken so much of his power…it would surely take some weeks before he would be able to perform normal functions once again.

_Normal…functions…?_

With an astonished realization, the former dark lord of the Sith propped himself up on the bunk. Almost trembling with anticipation, he extended an arm in front of his body—tanned skin, sinewy muscles, healthy veins—this was impossible!

He had been in some sort of drug-induced stupor as Luke had taken him from the machine, and had been totally unconscious as he was brought aboard the shuttle. He had recovered briefly and spoken to Luke before drifting off again, but now…now he had regained full control over his senses. As he ran his fingers through his dark blonde, wavy hair, the full gravity of the situation struck him.

He was human.

Not merely a reconstructed human, more mechanical than organic…no longer a stump of a torso with cybernetic limbs, and half the organs in his body replaced with sentient machinery. It was as if he had been reborn; as if he had been placed into the regenerator as a dying, malfunctioning half-droid, and emerged as a young, healthy boy of twenty-two. The same, irrational happiness once again stirred up within him, and a thin smile formed on his face.

"I'm alive," he whispered to himself, feeling a joyous shock as he realized that his old, boyish accent had once again returned. Even on the inside he felt a new attitude forming; as Darth Vader, he had been cold, brusque, focused on gaining his goals and disposing of any unnecessary details. Now, as Anakin Skywalker once again, he felt…optimistic. Of all the emotions that stirred beneath his newly reborn skin, the most prevalent was the optimism that flooded his veins. A pure and simple hope for the future…a hope that he thought was long since lost to him.

With a quick realization, he turned to look opposite him. Luke lay, breathing calmly, on the other bunk; his hair fell into his eyes, and he was curled up in an almost fetal position. A sudden warmth welled up in his father's heart; with a pained expression, Anakin reached out to lay a hand on Luke's shoulder. _Thank you, Luke_, he whispered through the Force. Luke seemed to acknowledge his sentiment; he shifted slightly, stretching himself out in a much-needed doze.

_He has done too much for me,_ Anakin thought, frowning. _So young…if only we had been able to know each other as he grew older._ And then there was the question of his sister—Anakin's daughter. So there had been two children, after all. But this girl—it could not have been…? No…even when he had been mercilessly interrogating her on the first Death Star, she did not give in. The blood of a Jedi…did it course through her veins, as it did through Luke's?

The crackling on the comlink had started once again. Static at first; faint voices and other noises were soon discernable against the crackling background. "Luke?" a voice finally asked, filtering through the other noises. "Luke, are you there? Are you alright?"

Anakin looked over to his son; the boy lay in exhaustion, and needed as much sleep as he could get. Against his better judgment, he rose from the bunk and placed his bare feet down upon the cold metal floor of the shuttle.

He found that his former athleticism had not yet returned; still clutching his old black cape wrapped around his lower body, he almost limped down the corridor, passing the small storage closets and entering the cockpit.

The voice on the comlink had grown a bit more forceful as his heavy steps neared the dashboard. "Luke…Lando said you were in this shuttle. Are you alright? Are you injured?" It was a female voice; there was no mistaking it. Only one woman's voice would ask for Luke in such a tender manner…

Anakin frowned. Sitting down in the pilot's chair, he slowly picked up the communicator from its place on the dashboard. Clearing his voice, he mentally prepared a short script in his mind. He had to perform the little act correctly, or she would know that something was amiss. Besides…he was curious about her, and wanted to converse with in a somewhat normal fashion—even if she thought that it was her brother that she spoke to.

"Hello, Leia," he greeted, in a slightly deeper tone than his natural voice. "I'm fine…don't worry about me."

"Thank the maker!" the voice exclaimed in a jubilant tone. "Get back here soon…we're all waiting for you. But your voice…were you injured in any way?"

"Ah…just a few scratches," Anakin answered, wracking his brains for an answer Luke might give. "A lightsaber scratch on the throat…I just feel a bit uneasy."

"Well, just hold up a bit longer…but tell me, Luke, before I go. Is Vader dead?"

Anakin felt his heart grow cold at the sudden question. Searching for a reasonable response, he did not reply for a few seconds. He could easily lie and say yes, but a small voice inside him resisted. A part of him did not want to deny his own existence; but he knew that now was not the time for inner struggles.

"Luke?" the princess's voice asked once again.

"I'll tell you everything when I get back," Anakin answered finally, with a sigh.

There was a slight pause. "Alright," she finally replied. "Please be careful." A muffled sound emerged from the comlink, followed by a couple of voices muttering a quick argument.

"Luke!" another voice greeted after a few seconds. "I knew you'd be fine, I just knew it."

It was the smuggler, the mercenary Solo…Anakin was unsure how close he and Luke were in reality, and decided to play it safe for a bit. "Thanks, Han."

"Ya sound a bit different…"

"Don't worry about it…just a scratch on the throat. I told Leia all about it."

"Well, take care of yourself, kid…get back here safe. We're waitin'."

"Will do, Han."

Another quick scuffling noise came through, and Leia's voice once again spoke. "See you shortly…" Her voice seemed to trail for a second, before coming back with a slightly awkward tone. "I love you."

Anakin blinked for a moment, at a loss for words. "I love you too, Leia," he answered. "I'll be back soon." The communicator once again resumed its usual crackling sound as Anakin pushed it back into the dashboard. _I told her I loved her_, he thought to himself, leaning back against the cold padding of the captain's seat. _Even though I did it under the pretension I was Luke…I have not uttered those words since…_

"Father?"

Anakin turned to see Luke standing in the doorway, a puzzled expression upon his tired face. "Were you just speaking to someone?"

"Han and Leia," Anakin replied, in a smoothly casual manner. Realizing his slip of the tongue, he quickly corrected himself. "Captain Solo and Princess Leia," he said again. "They wanted to know what happened to you… I didn't want to keep them hanging for too long."

Luke knit his eyebrows at what had seemed like Anakin's attempt at humor. Coming up behind the captain's seat, he looked down at Anakin's disheveled, wavy head. "There are some spare clothes in the back of the shuttle. You'd better change. We should be at Endor in about an hour."

Anakin gave him a wry smile. "It's been a while since I've worn clothes other than my life support armor," he began, rising from the seat. He stood a few inches taller than Luke; his bare feet padded against the floor grids as he slowly headed to the back of the shuttle. Luke looked back at him, still in dull shock at his father's complete change in appearance and behavior. Settling back into the captain's seat, he propped his legs up on the dashboard in a gesture reminiscent of Han's usual manners. He needed to think.

_What are we going to do when we arrive on Endor?_

Could he tell Han and Leia about Anakin? Possibly…no, he would definitely tell Leia. She was his daughter, after all—he surmised that Anakin would want to meet with her as well. Han? Well…maybe. He was their great friend…and Leia's burgeoning lover, it seemed. But he was unsure how either of them would react to the news that he had rescued Darth Vader from the clutches of death—and that he was now de-aged into a twenty-two year old self. They would, of course, be incredibly furious at first, but if he could get them past this…perhaps Han and Leia would help him keep Anakin out of the Alliance's grasp.

Still, it was a gamble. Both were fiercely loyal to the Empire, and hated Vader with a vengeance. Leia, especially—the Empire had taken away everything that was dear to her, and Vader had clamped his hand down on her shoulder while her heart had broken in agony. She declined to mention the story of Alderaan's destruction more than once; it was too painful to recall.

A sound near the back of the cockpit caused Luke to look up. Anakin stood there, dressed in tight brown battle pants with a blaster strapped to his belt; a military-looking tan jacket was unbuttoned to his collarbone, revealing just a hint of the black undershirt he wore underneath. Brown dewback-leather boots were strapped to his feet. "How's this?" he asked, coming into the room.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you look just like one of those scruffy Rebels," Luke answered, suppressing a grin. Anakin smiled and sank down into the copilot's chair, next to his son.

"That's good," he answered lightly.

There was a brief silence before Luke once again piped up. "I need to speak with you about what we're going to do once we reach Endor."

Anakin nodded. "What did you have in mind?" He was not used to being shepherded around like this; as Vader for so many years, he had grown used to making demands and having them immediately met. Now, he quickly reminded himself, he was not in control anymore—Luke was, and his own freedom and survival depended on what Luke thought would be best for them to do.

"Well," his son began, sitting back in the chair. "I need to get to Endor…Han and Leia and the others want to know I'm safe, and I have to at least make an appearance before the Rebel Alliance. I also have to come up with some of official report…I guess I'll them you're dead. That's pretty much the only way out of it."

Anakin nodded. "I refrained from telling the princess, in your voice, whether I was dead or alive."

"Did she say anything else?"

"Just the usual…to be careful, that they were waiting for you…and that she loved you."

Luke nodded, a small smile forming on his face. "What did you say back?"

"That you loved her as well," Anakin answered, looking back into Luke's azure eyes. Before he could stop himself, he added, "Your Leia sounds very much like Padmé."

"Padmé?" Luke asked, sitting up in his chair. The name, as soon as Anakin spoke it, felt somehow familiar; even only a few seconds afterwards, Luke felt that he had somehow known the name all his life.

Anakin sighed as he shifted himself in the pilot's chair; he had planned to tell Luke more about his heritage at a later date, but the pain of his wife's death was still fresh in his mind—even after twenty years, he could not think back on that day without feeling the blood, pumping through his veins, freeze with silent torture. "Padmé was your mother."

Luke could not stop himself from asking more questions; he knew that this was not exactly the right time to question Anakin about their past; but his mind was full of curiosity, and he felt that he waited long enough for their answers. "Who was she? Was she also a Jedi?"

"No," Anakin answered. "Though I have no doubt that the Force was present within her. Her full name was Padmé Amidala…she was a former queen of Naboo, and later she became a senator under Palpatine's regime."

"A queen?" Luke asked, astonished. "How did you meet her? I thought that Jedis were not allowed to marry or produce children…"

"They weren't," Anakin answered, with a sad smile. "That's part of the reason that…that _everything _happened, I suppose."

Luke looked back at him with a puzzled eye. Anakin expected a response, but instead he suddenly felt an inquisitive feeling well up inside him. Luke was extending himself through the Force; if his feelings could be interpreted through words, he was gently asserting himself. _I have many questions to ask, Father. _

Anakin chose to reply using the same, Force-felt communication. Laying a gentle hand on Luke's arm, he replied. _I will keep nothing from you, my son. If you ask, I will tell you all._

Their brief moment was interrupted by another crackling noise coming from the communicator. Luke briefly picked it up as a voice filtered through the static. "Commander Skywalker, this is clearance from Endor Base. Repeat, you have clearance to land on Endor Base—we've given the command to hold fire for now."

"Thank you," Luke replied. "I'll be there shortly." He hung up the comlink and turned to Anakin once again. "Well, here goes nothing," he said grimly. _This whole thing is bound to get out of hand soon…_

"I'm sure you can handle it, son," Anakin answered, sensing Luke's apprehension. "Go enjoy the celebration…you _are_ a hero, after all. You saved me, as well as destroyed the emperor and, technically speaking, dismantled the Empire as well."

Luke nodded. "I know," he said, as though dismissing some minor act of courage. "It's _you_ that I'm worried about."

Anakin cocked his head. "The last time I checked, I was your father and you were my son, not the other way around."

Luke chuckled, in spite of himself. "Whatever you say, Father."

Anakin gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder as the signal for atmospheric re-entry started to flash on the upper dashboard. The two men hurried to strap themselves in as the shuttle prepared to descend down unto the forest moon.

"By the way, Luke," Anakin said briskly as the shuttle started to tilt forwards. "You can call me Anakin from now on. It wouldn't be fitting for you to call me Father when I'm technically one year younger than you. Besides, calling me 'Father' makes me feel older than I'm comfortable with."

Luke grinned. "Alright," he agreed As strange as it may sound, Luke found Anakin's presence comforting, and extremely friendly; as a Rebel commander, he did not have the chance to be people of his own age quite often. Most of his acquaintances were much older than he, and though Han and Leia were also younger, they did not carry the same attitudes and camaraderie that Anakin seemed to hold. He felt as though he was meeting another version of himself; besides their more than slight resemblance, Anakin seemed to enjoy the same humor and wit Luke himself had come to treasure.

"Let's see if we can get through this, Anakin," Luke muttered as Endor's green blanket of forests slowly came into view.

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Luke and Anakin arrive on Endor, and Luke must decide exactly what to tell Han and Leia…or what not to tell them. Stay tuned!

End notes: Well, I hope you enjoyed the second chapter! I hope you all don't think that Anakin is acting OOC...he may still be Vader, but his transformation restored some of his old traits back to him. I like to think of him as having all of Vader's thoughts and memories, looking like Anakin from Episode III, but acting like Anakin from Episode II, before he got really evil. Also, if you think about it, Anakin from Episode VI is closest to Ani from Episode II, in terms of beliefs. I wanted to portray Luke and Anakin as developing a close relationship here, and I really picture them getting along as brothers would.

annependragon: Thanks for reviewing! I don't exactly know where I got the idea from…

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Thanks! I'd hope to write something different!

JadedofMara: Haha! Well, maaaybe…I still don't know what Luke is going to tell them, actually…

ILDV: Hope this update came fast enough for you!

Alien Roxi: Whoo-hoo, my plot device isn't corny, at least someone thinks so! Thanks a bunch!

Beth Weasley: Strangely enough, I think I've read your fanfic before…is confused Did Vader capture Luke and bring him to Kamino, and then use his DNA to build new parts for himself?

Pinkmoon: I'm honored that is the first SW you've ever reviewed for! The world of SW fanfiction is a magical…and weird….place! Thank you for reviewing!!

frodogenic: Ah, it's good to know that I "get" Vader…I was worried at first. I just hope I get Anakin in the same way, since they're not exactly the same person…well, you tell me!

eirene1988: Actually, when I wrote that, I meant that Luke, with his…what, month of Jedi training in a crash course with Yoda, was able to hold his own with and even best his father, who had been trained as a Jedi for a much longer time period than Luke. Anakin may be the Chosen One, but Luke definitely had it tougher in the training department—yet he's able to learn so many of the things Anakin learned, in a much shorter time period. I guess I had better clarify that in a later chapter…thanks for pointing it out, though!

Please review my story…comments and constructive criticism are welcome!!


	3. Reunion

Note: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 3: Reunion

by ArchFaith

_Something's not right here._

She could feel the blood rising within her, in a measure of irrational defense.

_Why am I so…worried? _she asked herself, shaking her head in a self-deprecating manner. Her liquid brown eyes scanned the overgrown forest floor in an excited agitation; she could feel her breathing become more pronounced, feel her entire body stiffen in an almost predatory way. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighed as she momentarily closed her eyes.

_Luke, _she whispered to herself. Though she wanted him to be back with her and the others, she did not try to reach out to him through the Force. She was only newly awakened to the possibilities of communication through the mysterious energies of the Force; she did know how to utilize it, and decided not to reach out to him.

She would be afraid at what she would feel.

There was someone else with him aboard that shuttle.

-

The Imperial shuttle gently settled down upon the landing strip, its upfolded wings gently easing off to the side as the shuttle's landing feet clamped down upon the pad below. Within, Luke turned off the main thrusters with a sigh of relief. Quickly looking out the window, he saw an entire squadron of Rebel pilots rushing towards the shuttle, still in their orange flightsuits. Wedge Antilles was leading the crowd in their clearly good intentions; they all seemed jubilant and excited, and went to greet one of their heroes with open arms.

It was the last thing Luke needed.

He hastily turned to Anakin, who had a reflective expression set on his face. "I'm going to go out and greet them," he said hastily, already rising from the pilot's chair. "They have no reason to check around in here, but you need to slip out after they leave."

Anakin nodded. "I'll just join your entourage in the end," he said, with a brief grin. "Come on, go."

He nearly shoved Luke towards the exit hatch as his son worked to catch his balance. "Whoa! Hold on a minute," Luke protested as he felt Anakin's hands against his shoulder.

"What's there to hold on for?" Anakin asked, pushing the opening switch. "The sooner you get down there, the sooner I get to join your parade."

Luke sighed. "Why is it that I have a bad feeling about this?" he muttered to himself as the hatch slowly started to open, sending its metal plank down upon the pad's hard floor. He could already hear the voices of the Rebels in the distance. "Anakin! Meet me by the Ewok Village," he hissed to his father's retreating form.

"I'll see you there," Anakin answered as he slowly made his way to the back of the ship. Though his body seemed to be functioning fairly normally, the use of his legs were another story; he would probably have to limp around for quite some time before he got used to the feeling of actual, fleshy legs once again.

"There he is! The hero of the Alliance!" The entire band of around thirty pilots seemed to surround Luke in a sudden haze; at any other time, Luke would have been extremely proud and happy to be greeted by so many of his peers. But Anakin's presence made things complicated, and he did his best to hide his restlessness from the crowd.

"Wedge," he said simply, immediately going to his friend. Patting him on the shoulder, he gave him a warm smile. The black-haired man gave him an ecstatic grin.

"Some hello for the guy who saved us twice, now!" he answered, giving Luke a warm embrace. "I have to say…seems like we owe those Ewoks an apology. They held their ground here with the rest of the squad even when things got rough."

"Well then, let's go tell them so ourselves," Luke answered. The Rebels crowded around him as the entire group started making their way off the landing strip. Luke flashed a telltale glance back at the shuttle before turning back to his friends. "Did Lando get back yet? I heard the explosion all the way from—"

No one noticed as Anakin slowly appeared on the gangway, making his way down with reasonable speed—as fast as his limping legs could go, anyway. Ewok Village—well, it would probably not be very hard to find. There were fires all over the vast expanse of forest, and the largest collection of lights had been blazing only a few paces west of the area. Taking a quick look around, he quickly moved off the landing strip.

His boot-clad feet crunched on the cracked ground as he stopped, for one moment, to breathe in the fresh air of the forest. The scent of thick pine and unpolluted air—it had been so long…

Pausing, his mind passed in reverse through his memories, selecting the one which matched his present experience so directly…he had not felt air so fresh, so sweet, since the day he and Padmé had been married on Naboo—even though now it was nighttime, and he stood at the edge of a forest and not of a lake, the air held the same liberating feelings it had held for him in those days as—

"Soldier."

Anakin spun around, his hand directly moving to his blaster. His lightsaber was gone, but he would make quick work of anyone who tried to…

"…Your Highness."

The short woman who stood behind him shifted slightly, her long chestnut hair cascading in waves down her back. She wore a coarse green dress made from hemp fibers harvested on one of the Ewok farms; primitive sandals graced her small feet. Though Anakin stood nearly a head taller than her, he could not help but feel the sudden innate rage that emanated from her smaller being; her beautiful, rounded face betrayed a look of mistrust as she crossed her arms, eyeing him.

"So you know who I am," she said contemptuously. She had never even met him before, and really had no reason to suspect him; so why was she acting in this way? She hushed her reason and went on. "Who are you?"

As he looked her over, Anakin noted the roundness of her face, the seriousness of her voice. She was truly Bail Organa's daughter—she had inherited all his sternness, and had even come to resemble Bail and his wife. Nothing would ever change that bond—the bond he himself had allowed to be cut those four years ago with the destruction of Alderaan.

"Private Officer Naberrie, your highness," he answered, using the first name that came to mind.

"You may dispense with the pleasantries, Private," Leia ordered sternly. "What were you doing coming off that shuttle?"

"I came up with the rest of the pilots, wishing Commander Skywalker a good return. I was not inside the shuttle…perhaps you _thought_ you saw me coming down," Anakin answered. His nerves were beginning to tingle; he felt like he was on trial as he spoke to this iron-willed princess. _She was truly meant to be a Jedi._

"I see," Leia answered. She could not reason why she was being so confrontational to this young blonde man, who seemed to be her own age. Still, she could not shake the uncomfortable feeling that she needed to keep an eye on him. Resolving to stick to her instincts, she nodded her head in the direction of the Ewok Village. "You will accompany me to see Commander Skywalker," she ordered.

Anakin bowed. "Yes, your—Commander Organa." He quickly stepped up next to her, and together they began to walk towards the brightly blazing lights of the bonfire.

Leia looked over at him once more. He seemed incredibly normal—he was rather good-looking, dressed in conventional off-duty military-style clothes with no markings. Except for a slight limp, everything about him seemed incredibly ordinary. But there was something…sinister about him. Something that suggested that he was hiding something beneath the positive-looking exterior. Using her skills as a diplomat, she felt that she had to draw out more.

"How long have you been with the Alliance?"

"Just a bit under three years, ma'am."

"And where do you hail from?"

Anakin decided he had nothing to lose—and she would have to hear it one day, anyway. "I'm from Tatooine."

Leia nodded. "Yes, it seems like some of our best come from that region," she commented. "Have you ever spoken to Commander Skywalker about your home planet? You might find that you have much in common with him."

"I have spoken to him in passing," Anakin answered, in a slight fluster. Was it possible that she…?

"Your last name was…Naberrie?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Quite a rare name—you would not happen to be related to the Naberrie family of Naboo?"

"No," Anakin answered, feeling his voice becoming weaker.

"Hm," Leia mused thoughtfully. "During my time in the Senate I became acquainted with a Senator Pooja Naberrie from Naboo…she related to me that their family was proud of its name, since they are the only known branch of the family yet living."

Anakin shook his head in attempt to shake off the irritated fear he felt welling up inside of him. "I don't know anything of the Naberries from Naboo," he replied. "Just my own family from Tatooine."

"I see," Leia said. She shifted her eyes down to his still-weakened legs. "Did you always walk with that limp?"

"Not always," he replied. "I was slightly injured in the battle back there…but my legs should be fully healed soon."

Leia narrowed her eyes as she looked back to glance at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but could think of nothing more to say. Looking back at the path ahead of them, the pair grew quiet as they made their way through the massive tree trunks, nearing the blazing bonfires of the central Ewok Village ahead.

Anakin was careful not to make eye contact with her—at the edges of his consciousness he could already feel an aura emanating from her, deep and resistant. How had she escaped his notice when they had met aboard the first Death Star? Why had not noticed it—the strength of will, the stubborn pride, the sense of duty that his own dear Padmé had possessed so many years before? Perhaps he had not been looking hard enough—perhaps he had lost hope of ever finding that fiery grace once again.

They neared the village now—every now and then a squat little Ewok passed by them on the path, always gesturing in playful, excited tones towards the fires ahead of them, which grew brighter as they came nearer. Here and now they would pass small sentry huts, thatched with twigs and tree branches—most had been abandoned for the celebration up ahead, whose noises were now becoming apparent.

Leia smiled down at the Ewoks who greeted her; she had developed a fondness for the bear-like creatures, so courageous and intelligent for their size and appearance. As they approached a group of the small beings, one Ewok quickly turned to meet her. The small hooded creature ran to her with a gleeful shriek; she grinned and easily picked him up, hugging him close to her as he clung to her neck. "Wicket," she said simply, patting his back. "You've done a great job."

Anakin smiled quietly as they resumed their walking pace, Wicket now attached to Leia's shoulders. So strange—that such a primitive, tiny race of glorified stuffed animals could defeat an entire detachment of stormtroopers. Briefly reminded of the Gungans and the Battle of Naboo, Anakin became lost in a short reverie as he suddenly felt something pulling down on his hair.

"Hey," he said as Wicket's claws clamped down on his shoulder-length hair. The Ewok had reached out from Leia's arms to entangle its hands within Anakin's dark blonde strands. In spite of her deep suspicion, Leia could not suppress a laugh as Wicket curiously examined the handful of hair between his claws.

"I think he wants a ride." Stopping momentarily, she gently handed the Ewok over to Anakin, who accepted the young creature with a kind of embarrassed resignation.

"Hello there," he said awkwardly, looking down into the furry face beneath him. Wicket was still fascinated by Anakin's hair; he reached out to claw at it, and took handfuls of it within his stubby paws. "They're kind of like Wookies—just more child-like," he commented suddenly as they continued their pace, Wicket scrambling onto his shoulders.

"Yes," Leia agreed. He seemed kind—but yet, there was something else beneath this exterior. Well. She could just have to let it go—for now.

By now they had reached the outskirts of the village; the huts grew bigger and were spaced more closely together. The various paths that led off into the wilderness slowly converged into one large dirt avenue; passing by several celebrating Ewok families with their loud drums and high-pitched flutes, within the space of a few minutes they found themselves nearing what could be considered the village square. In a large open courtyard, surrounded by the brightly-lanterned huts of the chief and the high elders, several of the Rebel pilots and officers had gathered, all in various states of excitement and jubilation. Luke and his landing party were clearly visible, even from far off—the orange-clad Rebels gathered in a cluster around Luke, who at the moment was being embraced by a slightly older man wearing a black vest and pants adorned with the Corellian blood stripe.

"I don't know what happened to you up there, kid, but your voice sounds just like it ought to," the other man said, playfully squeezing Luke's shoulders. Luke was grinning ear to ear, unperceptive of Anakin's close proximity as Han Solo quickly turned around.

"There you are," he said, throwing Leia a careless smile. "Luke's been looking high and low for ya. Come say hello to your brother, for goodness' sake!"

Leia quickened her pace, and gently glided into Luke's arms, giving him a tight embrace as she planted a kiss against his cheek. Luke gently patted the back of her chestnut head, smiling quietly as she reluctantly pulled away. "I was so worried about you," she whispered, smoothing his cheek. "I'm so glad you're safe."

In a split second, Luke's eyes had moved from Leia's radiant face to observe Anakin standing behind her, the curious Ewok still perched upon his shoulders. Raising his eyebrows in slight frustration, he quickly worked to conceal his surprise as he again focused on Leia. "I told you there was no need to worry," he said again.

The princess knit her eyebrows. "Your voice…it sounded so different when we spoke to you through the comlink…"

_What the hell did Anakin say to them? _Luke wondered, throwing the question out to his father for a possible answer.

All he received was a shrug. _I did my best to sound like you do,_ was Anakin's only response. Wicket gave his wavy hair another tug, and Anakin quickly plucked the small creature off his shoulders. "That's enough," he said sternly as he unceremoniously placed Wicket down upon the ground. The Ewok, seemingly upset at first, quickly got over his distress and scampered off to join his friends.

Leia and Han, thankfully, did not notice Luke's nervous discomfort. "Alright then, tell us what happened," Han prodded, breaking into Luke and Leia's embrace. "The Emperor's dead, right? And what about Vader? Leia told me some pretty weird things a few hours ago…"

Luke shook his head. "The Emperor is dead," he confirmed, putting his arms around his two friends. "And Vader…the Vader we know is gone." By this time, the rest of the pilots had slowly dispersed around the clearing, careful to give the trio their time alone. Luke continued speaking in slightly lower tones, his arms still around Leia and Han as they veered off to the side of the clearing, near an empty enclave set into a large rock.

Anakin raised an eyebrow as he slowly noticed the intonations in Luke's voice. Cocking his head slightly, he was unaware that he had been staring until Han turned and gave him a fierce look. "Something wrong, pretty boy?" he asked, with a wry expression upon his face. "Can't ya see this is a private conversation?"

Luke winced at Han's rather caustic remark; Anakin, on the other hand, reacted with incredible fury. _How dare he speak to me in such a way! _he fumed, clenching his hand into a fist. _Scum of the galaxy addressing me in that manner!_

Luke could almost feel the hate bubbling up inside his father; for one infinitesimal moment he paused in his narrative, sending a warning glance at Anakin. _Calm down. You may have once been Darth Vader, but you're nothing here. I'll find you later._

Anakin shook his head in agitation as he scowled. "Apologies, Commander Solo," he said quickly. Turning, he swiftly stalked back down the pathway leading out of the clearing; Luke frowned as he observed the retreating figure, so filled with frustration and pride. Sighing, he turned back to his friends.

-

"He saved me, Leia…he threw the Emperor into the Death Star's core."

Leia blinked, obviously unmoved. "It's a miracle you're not dead," she said, resting her hand on Luke's shoulder. The thought of Luke dying was almost unbearable to her; they had been through so much together, and the new knowledge of their birth had endeared him to her even more.

"What happened after?" Han asked breathlessly, from Luke's other side. The wooden bench they occupied almost buckled under their combined weight; sighing, Luke stood, turning back to face the couple with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I went to him and tried to get us both to a shuttle."

Leia let out an audible gasp. "You wanted to save him?" she asked incredulously, rising from her seat. "That monster? The man who killed so many without even so much as a backward glance?"

Luke looked down to the dirt ground, digging the tips of his boots into the dusty floor. "He's our father, Leia…he saved me."

Leia shook her head in a warning manner. "I don't care, Luke. He is an animal. He destroyed my home, and the only family I ever knew; no matter if he is our father, I could never forgive him for that." Her voice was calm and firm; dangerous undertones echoed beneath. Luke could feel her true sentiments, though she was not aware of their connection through the Force.

Han reached out, and settled a soothing arm around Leia's shoulders. "What's done is done," he said reflectively, looking up into Luke's face. "The end of it all is…Vader's not here. Which means he's dead." It was more of a statement than a question.

Luke breathed in deeply, and prepared to deliver the worst lie he had ever told in his life. "Yes," he said simply.

They could not know about Anakin. Their hatred for him was so strong; instead of helping Luke protect him, they would let Anakin be devoured by the Alliance. And as much as he deserved it—as much as he deserved every possible kind of torture and death the Rebels could devise for him—Luke would not allow it. It was unfair, yes—but then again, when had Luke Skywalker ever asked for something for himself?

He turned away, hoping that Han and Leia would not see the grimace he bore on his face. "I left the body on the Death Star," he said. "I didn't have time to bring it back."

"And good riddance," Leia breathed, narrowing her eyes. "It is truly the beginning of a new era for the Republic. Palpatine and Vader are both dead."

The three ended their conversation in contemplative silence. A funerary pallor suddenly descended upon them—as Luke turned, he no longer felt any joy or happiness in the occasion. The thought of not having their support in this matter depressed him; he could not bear the awful silence any longer. "I'm exhausted," he began—a true statement. "I'm going to get some rest."

Leia, who was staring grimly at the ground, did not answer; Han gave a quick nod. "Night, Luke," he replied, running his hand up and down Leia's shivering back.

The blonde man quickly turned and made his way down the dirt path, passing the small Ewok huts in search of the Rebel base camp.

_Anakin?_

-

The Rebel base camp was little more than a loose collection of large tents, pitched only a few hundred meters out of the Ewok village. Luke slowly picked his way through the sea of green and teal tents, coming at last to a smaller tent pitched at near the northwestern edge of the camp. He opened the flap, and gently slid inside.

He had almost no trouble locating his father—his feelings of anger and unexpressed pride would have made him a prime target for any focused Jedi Knight. Anakin sat, knees pulled up to his chin, inside the tent's synthetic floor. "Luke," he said gruffly, a scowl still set upon his face.

"Hey," his son answered, settling into a sitting position next to him. "What happened back there? How did Leia find you?"

Anakin shrugged. "It was almost as if she were waiting for me…I stepped out of the ship, and there she was."

Luke nodded. "She's always on the mark." _Even about things she doesn't understand._

Briefly forgetting about Han's remark, Anakin stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back in a tired gesture. "She would have been a powerful Jedi, had she been trained. As powerful as you've become."

Luke shook his head, about to add a few sentences about Leia's political career when more pressing matters suddenly invaded his mind. "What did you tell her?" he asked.

Anakin scratched the back of his head, recalling the information he had fed to the princess. "I told her I was a private in the Rebellion, that my name was Naberrie…that I had been with the Alliance for three years, and that I was from Tatooine."

Luke nodded. "Alright then. We need to corroborate that if we're going to get out of this trap."

"And just how are you planning to do that?"

"Easy," Luke answered. "I'll just have Threepio access the troop files, and then I'll have him forge you some identification data."

Anakin smiled. "Threepio," he said, slipping into a short reverie. "That rusty droid has sure come a long way from those days on Tatooine."

Luke knit his eyebrows. "You had a droid named Threepio?"

Anakin looked back at him with a knowing smile. "See Threepio _is _mydroid," he answered. "It's fitting he ended up with you."

Luke frowned. "You're going to have to fill me in on this," he said. "I'm pretty much in the dark about everything."

"Alright, son. Fire away."

It was no surprise that the boys stayed up all night.

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: As Luke learns more about his heritage, he must somehow find a way to get himself and Anakin off Endor without the Alliance's notice. Not to mention Leia's suspicious eye…stay tuned!

End notes: Hope you liked this chapter…I really wanted to write some material about Leia and her connection to the Force. Anyone notice that I gave her some of Vader's old dialogue? Anyway, I hope to write a little more about Han and the droids in the next chapter, but I really don't have a clear plan for where this story is going to go…it's kind of just writing itself! But please review, and tell me what you liked about it, didn't like, etc. Thanks very much!

hurotias: Good to know that you like Ani's personality! As for including stuff from the EU…ah, well, that's gonna be a no for me. I was always an OT kind of gal, so I only know the most basic characters and events from the EU. My story is going to veer off into an AU fic soon, I just don't know enough about C'boath/Mara/Luuke to write a good EU fic.

ILDV: Thanks a bunch!

Vicster200: whoo-hoo, the regenerator is not corny! I managed to do it right!

TheRandomScribbler: Yay, thanks for reviewing!

TheSummoningDark: Thanks…my favorite part of writing this has been the Luke/Anakin interactions.

Alien Roxi: heh…well, Leia grilled Anakin and Han basically insulted him. It's one big dysfunction after another!

VFSNAKE: Well, we'll see about a possible father/daughter relationship…maybe…

Beth Weasley: Ah, I'm sorry I confused your fic! I have to check it out soon, it does sound very interesting! As for Anakin noting Leia's resemblance to Padmé, Anakin has been a bit dense…he didn't recognize her on the first Death Star…

Celes Tilly: 20 chapters?! You demand much of me, my friend!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Hehe, my lame attempt at humor. Thank you, though!

Sonseeahray: Glad you like my writing, thank you!

Zigflorian: I love them, too! There's not enough in the universe…

Darth Kiryan: Thanks! It's good to have so much encouragement!

Larry: Hope I don't keep you waiting too long!

major Wallace: More is on the way!

Wonderful: Yup…he's got the mind of a frat boy now, hehehe.

Xenia Marvolo: Thanks so much!

XXX: Man, that would be one hell of a regression…

Charlie Hayden: Which mistake? Please point it out so I can correct it!

Please review my story…comments and constructive criticism are welcome!! See you in a galaxy far, far away…


	4. Business

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 4: Business

by ArchFaith

_Your mother and I first met when I was just a slave on Tatooine. I was only nine years old, living with my mother under a Toydarian merchant. She was fourteen, and already the elected leader of an entire planet._

Luke slept, curled up against the cushy materials of the regulation sleeping bag. Outside the synthetic folds of the tent, a dim glow seemed to be descending.

_The first thing I asked was if she was an angel. She laughed, and told me I was a funny little boy. _

Anakin lay back against his own sleeping bag, eyes half-closed. In a slight doze, he quietly observed his sleeping child, feeling the general exhaustion held within his heart.

_She was traveling under the protection of two Jedi—Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. It's a good thing I decided to come into the shop that day._

Still…Luke was not a child. So many years had passed between them—and this is what hurt Anakin the most.

Daylight was coming on. The majority of the night before had been spent engaged in a long conversations with Luke; true to his word, Anakin answered every question Luke put forth to him. His life on Tatooine with his mother, training under Obi-Wan during the Clone Wars, Padmé's secret pregnancy—nothing was withheld from his son.

As he spoke, Anakin had felt a sort of peace come over him—never in his life had he repeated his story to anyone, and Luke was an eager listener. It gave him a sense of closure, to be so open with his son—in all the years since he had become Darth Vader, all his sense of bonding and intimacy had evaporated. It was liberating, to be able to speak with someone in a conversational tone once again. As Vader, he had assumed a demand and order system of speaking to his subordinates—as for his superiors, well, there was really only one other person higher than him. But of course, Palpatine had never been much for friendly conversation.

A sudden feeling of discomfort slowly overcame him, as he realized that a mildly hostile presence was approaching the tent—it soon came near, slowly walking through the midst of the tents with leaf-crunching footsteps. Anakin quickly turned over and closed his eyes.

The tent flap gently opened, and Leia knelt down to crawl inside. She frowned; Luke was there, but so was that suspicious man from before. It was extremely coincidental that they should be sharing the same tent…incredible. She had not thought it possible that Naberrie, or whatever his name really was, could arouse her defenses even farther. But he had managed to do it. And Luke, she was sure, was in on the secret as well.

Sighing, she decided to finish up with her task. She knelt down next to her sleeping brother and gently shook his arm. "Luke," she whispered. "Luke…"

Without opening his eyes, Luke automatically slid his arm around her. "What is it, Leia?" he asked in a sleepy tone. A vacant smile formed upon his exhausted face. "Come 'ere," he whispered, as if he were speaking to a child.

Despite the general rush of the duties she still had ahead of her, Leia slowly decided to take a quick break. Slowly stretching herself out next to Luke, she reached out to tousle his blonde head. "Did you rest well?" Her still-loosened brown hair gently brushed against Anakin's back; intrigued, he listened in on the twins' ensuing conversation.

Shaking off his half-unconscious mood, Luke's mind quickly ran over the events of the night before—the stories of Anakin's life as a slave, his grandmother, the heroic stories of the Clone Wars, and the various Jedi who had helped and fought with Anakin along the way. His mind filled with the exotic names and places—Naboo, the place his mother had worked so hard to protect; Genosis, planet of the insectoids; Mustafar, where Anakin and Obi-Wan had fought over the fate of the galaxy. The brave and powerful Jedi of Coruscant—Mace Windu, Aayla Secura, Kit Fisto, and many more whose feats and strengths dazzled and empowered him. And Padmé. The ever-shadowed mother of his oldest memories, little more than a tear-stained face and a gentle touch.

Quickly bringing to mind that Anakin was still in the tent with them, he opened his eyes to stare directly at his sister. "I slept alright," he answered. "Cuddle up with Han, huh?"

Leia grinned. "Are you going to play big brother to me, now? We're too old for that, I think. Besides, I'm definitely more mature than you are."

Luke lifted an eyebrow. "Four years ago, maybe, but not anymore," he said, smirking. "C'mon, take a little rest with me for a bit."

Laying her head on Luke's shoulder, Leia gently shook her head. "I came to tell you a few things," she whispered. "Come outside with me…this is confidential."

"Alright," Luke answered. Leia rose, from her place next to him on the mat; stretching, he too got up, running a hand through his rumpled hair. She quickly pushed aside the tent flap and went out into the morning sunlight; in a split second, Luke turned back to Anakin, who was still pretending to be asleep.

_Don't do anything incriminating_, he thought, sending the sentiment back to his father.

With a wry grin, Anakin turned and cracked an eye open. _Whatever you say, son, _came his playful answer. _Go talk to your sister._

Satisfied, Luke crawled out of the tent and joined Leia outside. Most of the tents were still pitched, but a few had already been taken down; nearby, a Rebel commander was giving orders to a bunch of troops, addressing them about rations and supplies. Farther back, in the trees, a few inquisitive Ewoks were seated, cocking their heads at the strange, paper-like buildings that their visitors had temporarily constructed. The sunlight was bright and warming; breathing in deeply, Luke again stretched before turning to Leia, who was eyeing him patiently. "What's up?"

"Well, there are plenty of things happening at the moment," Leia responded, slipping into her official business voice. "I've just received a transmission from General Madine. He tells me that the Alliance's main fleet will be joining us here on Endor tonight. They're traveling right now, as we speak—they're coming partly to join the celebration and keep up appearances, but I suspect they also want to hear a report from you, Luke. Han and I are preparing an official statement about what happened here on Endor, but they also want to hear your version of it. General Rieekan, General Dodonna, Admiral Ackbar, and of course Commander Mothma—they're all be here."

Luke nodded. "Right. Well, I'll just scratch something up…it doesn't need to be that accurate, does it?"

Leia smiled and shook her head. "Tell them whatever you want. What you're comfortable with." She gently entwined his hand in hers. "Now come on. I don't know about you, but all these battles have given me quite an appetite. Let's get something to eat."

Luke silently accepted her offer, and the brother and sister lazily strolled off towards the mess hall, hand in hand. Of course, the "mess hall" in question was little more than a clearing inhabited by sawed off logs acting as benches; located south of the camp, it seemed more like a picnic site than a military establishment. Since the strain of the battle had abated, the troops had been allowed to sleep in for once; save for a few quiet members of personnel, seated on a few stumps and talking in quiet tones, it was fairly empty. There was a small, portable oven and frying station set up in the middle, and the only figure operating it was a familiar-looking droid, encasing in a golden-colored plating and looking quite flustered.

"Honestly…being asked to man the cooking station!" the droid angrily muttered, even as Luke and Leia came nearer. With his metal fingers, he slowly pushed a few buttons on the stove—loud, angry gurgling noises sounded from within. The droid sighed and shook his head. "I was built for protocol, not cooking services…"

"Good morning, Threepio," Luke greeted, gently tapping the droid on the shoulder. See Threepio spun around, suddenly embarrassed as he took a step back.

"Master Luke! Mistress Leia," he answered enthusiastically. "Good morning to you. I hope you had a good rest last night."

Luke nodded. "As good as I ever had," he replied. "Now how about something to eat?"

"Well…" Threepio began. "Ah…of course! Just one moment!"

Luke and Leia chuckled, giving each other amused looks. In order to provide the droid with a task to perform—for there had been no need for protocol during the Battle of Endor—he had been assigned to help out at the cooking station. Of course, culinary service was not exactly his specialty, but he would be of great use during the slow hours of late night and early morning. Besides, he might pick up a useful skill or two; Artoo was already quite skilled at bartending since his time on Jabba's sail barge.

Contrary to their expectations, however, Threepio soon produced two large plates of steaming food. "Here you are," he said proudly. "I worked very hard to procure these delicious morsels for you."

"Thanks," Leia answered, taking the plate from him. Unexpectedly, the food did look edible—it was simple fare, but there was quite a quantity of it. The two quickly settled down on a log bench, watching in amusement as Threepio attempted to handle an obviously hung-over soldier who was vehemently demanding a glass of blue milk.

"By the way, Luke," Leia began, nibbling a corner of a Haroun bread slice. "I must say…you have quite the taste for a tentmate."

Luke arched his eyebrows. "What, him?" he said dismissively. "Ani Naberrie? What about him?"

Leia shook her head, lowering her eyes to the ground. "Oh nothing," she answered. "He seems like a trustworthy man…you two have known each other long?"

"Ah…I suppose. I met him a while ago," Luke replied, trying to remember exactly what Anakin had told Leia the night before. "He's from the same region as me, on Tatooine."

Leia's ensuing silence discomforted him more than any of Anakin's revelations. She felt an uncomfortable stir within him and smiled inwardly. _I'll soon reach the bottom of all this._

-

"Hey! You there!"

Anakin quickly turned. He had been walking around the camp and village, trying to look as though he where going about some official Rebel business. Generally finding that things were being handled quite well without him, he had taken to milling about, and was about to head back to base camp when he had been addressed. "Yes, sir," he answered reverently, before he saw who it was that called him.

Han stood in the middle of the path, hands crossed over his arms as he eyed the young man who stood before him. "Oh, hey pretty boy," he said, with a smile on his face. "Maybe I was a bit harsh last night. No hard feelings, eh, kid?" he said, going over to pat Anakin on the back.

Anakin quickly rolled his eyes in disgust. "No harm, done, Commander," he managed to force out.

Han smirked, oblivious to Anakin's true feelings. "Great! Say, since you don't seem occupied at the moment, how's about giving me some help with my ship?"

"Sure, sir. What do you need help with?" Anakin asked obediently.

"Well, my ship got pretty busted up back there, during the battle—I need to get some spare parts aboard. My first mate's helping out, but wouldn't you know it—there are just some things that are too delicate for a Wookiee to handle. Help me out?"

"Of course," Anakin said, secretly fuming. First the scoundrel insults him, now he asks for some help with his beat-up old pile of bolts. Well, there was nothing he could do except go along with it—besides, as Luke said, it would be good to keep out of "suspicious" activities. And here, at the Rebel base camp, being inactive was surely a suspicious sign.

Han turned and motioned for him to follow. "Okay then. Let's go get some parts out of the bunker, then. I'm sure the Imperials won't miss 'em."

Anakin resignedly joined him, crossing his arms over his chest as they started on down the forest path. Han, for his part, saw himself as doing nothing more than recruiting an idle soldier for some lifting work; and being a commander, he had known that Anakin couldn't resist his requests.

"So what's your name, kid?" he asked, stretching his arms out over his head.

"Private Naberrie, sir," Anakin answered, silently wondering how Luke had put up with Han's idiocy through all the years they had known each other.

"Heh, you don't need to call me 'sir' or anything like that," Han replied, as their boots crunched through the thick leaves of the forest. "'Han' is just fine. We're all in the same ship, aren't we?"

"I guess you could say that, Han," Anakin responded, secretly amused. He was now on speaking terms with the same man he had ordered to be tortured and placed into carbonite on Cloud City—the irony of it all brought a brief smile to his face.

"How 'bout you? You got a name other than 'Private Naberrie of the Rebel Alliance'?"

"Ah…my family back home calls me Ani."

"Ani, huh," Han snorted, bringing his hands to his sides in a restless manner. "Cute nickname."

"That's something from the guy whose ship is just a greased-up speeder that can't even make hyperspace nine out of ten times."

At this, Han raised an eyebrow. "You've got guts to say that to somebody higher than you in this joint." Contrary to what he had assumed before, the younger man did have a spine; he had assumed that the boy was just a hotshot who had run away from home, and had joined the Alliance to 'prove himself'. Much like Luke had been, the more he thought about it.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Anakin shot back, pleased. He knew Han a little better now, and the former smuggler was far easier to engage than first suggested.

Han cocked his head. "Well…" he began purposefully. His thoughts quickly faded on the wind. What was he going to do? Han had never been the kind of man to care about petty things; he wouldn't report Anakin to command, and he certainly wasn't going to whine to anyone other than Chewbacca. He sighed in defeat.

"Just help me out with this stuff and you can be on your way."

Anakin decided that he liked Han Solo.

-

"…with the help of the Ewoks, our troops were able to overpower the Imperial detachment and secure control of the bunker. The second Death Star's shield generator was disabled, and our aerial attack began from there. I'm sure Commander Calrissian will be able to elaborate on this further."

The tall woman seated before Leia nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Princess Leia," she said elegantly, crossing her hands together on her lap. "It was quite to our advantage that we joined forces with the Ewoks." Chief Chirpa, who had been sitting across the tent from her, gave her a toothy grin.

Luke sighed. He had never been one for formal occasion, and this was pushing it. He sat on a crudely carved wooden stool, inside a large tent that had been patched together from smaller fabrics. The inside was lit with primitive lanterns from the Ewok Village, large poles pushed into the earth with fires burning on tar at their ends. To occupy the Rebel's top leaders, some semblance of civilization had quickly been infused into the setting; large chairs were quickly constructed from the fallen trees, and a table with a rather inaccurate map of Endor had been laid out in front of them. It was rather informal; no holocrons or projectors, or anything of technological value, had been taken out from the ships. It was more of a debriefing, really—there was no need to lay out strategy any more. Just the results. That was all that mattered.

"And where is Commander Calrissian?" Mon Mothma asked, looking again towards Leia.

"I believe he is helping some of the troops repair their damaged ships," Leia replied. "He sends his apologies that he cannot be here in person. He promises to write a report concerning the space battle to send to you as soon as possible." Even as she said it she knew what an incredible lie it was. Lando was most likely hanging out at the cooking station with his drinking buddies, or wasting time with Han and Chewbacca on the Falcon.

Mothma narrowed her eyes. "Thank you, Princess," she said.

Admiral Ackbar shifted in his chair next to her. "Well, let's here from our other front. Commander Skywalker?"

Luke stood. He had taken his best care to look presentable; he was still wearing his black Jedi robes, but he also wore the faded yellow military jacket he donned when he received his medal at Yavin. Rising, he strode to the center of the tent and bowed. "Commander Mothma, Admiral Ackbar," he said stiffly, nodding to the two seated in front of him. "General Rieekan, General Madine, General Dodonna" he said, looking around at his three former superiors. "And esteemed leaders of the Alliance. Two days ago I surrendered myself to Imperial forces, and was taken onboard the Death Star."

"Why did you do this, Commander?" Mothma asked, with her hawklike glance.

"I was irrational at the time. I wanted to take revenge on Darth Vader for my father's murder."

"I see. Please continue."

"I was taken before Emperor Palpatine himself. Palpatine tried to tempt me towards joining him and Vader at the command of the Empire, but I refused them. He compelled me to fight Vader; I bested him."

A quick note of disbelief raced across the room; Luke continued. "We fought, and Palpatine instructed me to kill Vader. Knowing that I was being manipulated into becoming his next pawn, I threw my lightsaber down and gave in. Palpatine used Force lightning to subdue me."

Mothma knit her eyebrows. "How did you manage to free yourself?"

"Vader saved me."

Loud whispers were now heard inside the tent. Luke stood silent, waiting for their next question.

It was Ackbar who finally asked. "He saved you? The same man who hunted the galaxy to destroy you, now wanted to save you?"

"I do not know his reasoning, or why he chose to save me," Luke said simply, without emotion. "Perhaps he was trying to kill the Emperor and then destroy me. Whatever the reason, he threw the Emperor down into the Death Star's energy core. This is what triggered the Death Star's destruction."

"And what happened to Vader?" Rieekan asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"Vader died soon after he threw the Emperor down. His respirator appeared to malfunction, and he stopped breathing before I was able to get up."

Mothma sat back, placing her hands against the arms of the chair. "And so the two most powerful men in the galaxy are dead…or so it is said." She leaned forward, a gleam set in her sharp eyes. "Commander Skywalker, we only ask that you answer us plainly. Is Darth Vader truly dead?"

"Yes," Luke answered breathlessly.

Mothma seemed unconvinced. "Commander, we have heard certain rumors that he yet lives. Some of the troop leaders have told me that when their soldiers examined the shuttle you returned in, they found a scrap of black material. It seems that this material might have been part of Vader's cloak."

Luke knit his eyebrows, trying his best not to cave in to the extreme pressure that was now building up inside him. "I don't know anything about it," he answered. "If there was a piece of fabric aboard the shuttle, I did not pay any attention to it."

It was now Ackbar who took up the accusatory mallet. "Certain of our personnel also listened in to the transmission that Princess Leia sent to you aboard the Imperial shuttle. Your voice sounds extremely altered in this reading."

_Always keeping an eye out, _Luke thought grimly. "I engaged in a lightsaber battle with Vader—his saber nicked me on the throat, just slightly. It hurt to speak too much, and my voice might have sounded a bit strange while I was injured."

"Alright, Commander," Mothma said briefly. "We just wanted to confirm your statement of Vader's death. That is all; you may go."

Luke stiffly bowed, and quickly strode out of the tent, his mind swimming with doubt as he quickly headed out down the path through the forest. _They're on to us, _he thought, yanking the collar of his yellow jacket down. _Dammit…we have to find a way out of this place before they submit a full investigation…_

Focusing his mind, he quickly sent out a call signal to Anakin. _You need to get over here now. We might have to move sooner than I thought._

What he got back was quite a surprise. _I'm helping out with the Falcon, Luke. Your charming friend here asked me to help him repair the ship._

_What?! Is this your idea of lying low?_

_I had no choice. You wanted me to blend in. This is how I'm doing it._

Sighing, Luke quickened his pace down to the landing strip, briefly wondering if Obi-Wan had ever felt the same kind of exasperation he was feeling at the moment.

-

"Well, what do you know?" the dark-skinned man asked, whistling as he looked over Anakin's handiwork. "How did you know that we needed two extra core separators?"

Wiping his sweaty forehead, Anakin suppressed a grin. "I did some work with podracers when I was younger. They're not that much different than this."

Lando Calrissian quickly eased himself out of the wiring trench, dusting himself off he came out. His blue shirt was stained with grease, and his boots were slightly worn at the bottoms from all the mechanical work he had been doing to get the Falcon online. "Some kid you found to work this thing, Han!"

From his place inside the cockpit, Han shot him an annoyed glance. "Yeah," he agreed as he fumbled with the dashboard. Next to him, Chewbacca out a lazy yawn.

_So this is what Luke does to waste time with his friends, _Anakin thought, looking around. _What a piece of junk._

As soon as the thought left his head, the aforementioned man appeared in the doorway, a look of consternation set upon his face. Lando looked up, and waved enthusiastically. "Luke!" he greeted. "How'd it go? Those bigshots understand that I was doing something important here?"

Luke frowned. At any other time he would have given in to Lando's teasing, but this was not the right time. "They didn't seem to mind that you weren't there." He slowly advanced into the room and looked down at Anakin, whose feet still dangled inside the wiring trench.

"Hello Commander Skywalker," Anakin said neutrally, playing the part. "I hope your debriefing went well."

"It did," Luke answered purposefully. "It was actually pretty boring."

"And while you were there, we were having all the fun in the galaxy," Lando said, grinning. "I tell you, this guy knows his stuff! He said he worked on podracers before, but he's got some skills with this heap of bolts. Eh, Han?"

Han leaned forward, frowning. "Yeah. Sure."

"In any case, I was planning to send a transmission to Tatooine," Luke said, thinking of the most credible example he could find. "I was going to alert my friends there that I was safe. Private Naberrie, I know that your family is from the Mos Eisley area. Would you like to send a transmission as well?"

"Yes, Commander. Thank you for asking," Anakin answered in obvious falsity. Standing, he bowed formally to Lando. "Goodnight, Commander Calrissian. I'm honored to have assisted you in repairing the ship."

Lando gave an absent wave. "Night, kid," he replied. "But thank Han. He's the one who dug ya up."

Han answered with a grunt from inside the cockpit. "Thanks Ani—whatever your name is." Secretly disgruntled at having been outdone on his own ship, the pilot stretched back in his chair, still trying to press some wires back into the dashboard. Chewbacca let out a friendly growl.

Anakin and Luke strode through the dingy corridor, making their way down the gang plank with quick steps. As soon as they had reached a suitable distance away from the ship, Luke let out a quick sigh. "So you decided to help them out, huh?"

Anakin smiled. "Han asked me to do it as a favor. I didn't think he'd take it so personally that I knew how to fix a starship."

"You worked on podracers?"

"Yeah, when I was younger. I won the Boonta Eve Classic when I was nine. Didn't I tell you that last night?"

"Yeah, sure," Luke replied impatiently. "Listen, we've got more important things on our hands right now."

"What happened?"

"I think they're on to us."

"You think…or you know?"

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Luke and Anakin plot a way to get off Endor while Leia works to ensnare them. Also, Han fixes the ship. Stay tuned!

End notes: Hehe…this chapter was really more comedic than my last ones. I swear, this story gets and less serious as I go along. But I would really like to return to some more serious overtones in the next chapter, so we'll see how it goes.

I hope everyone is liking Anakin's new personality at this point. Theoretically, he should still be acting like Vader, but I'm figuring that he has to do his best to blend in with the Rebels. Also, I'm assuming he got an extra dose of adrenaline and testosterone when he transformed back into Anakin, so…yeah. Please take some time out and review my story!

VFSNAKE: Haha, yeah, Leia does hate Anakin. I'm thinking she's inherited some of his darkside tendencies, though…

Vicster200: Well, I figure that even though Han was alive during the Clone Wars, he was just a kid. So while he remembers some stuff from that period, he doesn't really remember details.

ILDV: I'll try my hardest to!

Princess-Aiel: Thank you very much!

Rhodna: Ah, thank you so much for clearing this up for me! I see…hm. A temporary solution…actually, knowing the context of this word makes the meaning of the story even better. Thanks a bunch!

Chronormu: Yup, I'm definitely gonna work hard on it!

JadedofMara: Hehe, I'm glad I got Leia and Anakin right. I always wondered what an interaction between the two would look like.

TheSummoningDark: Hehe. Leia does have a bit of darkness inside her as well, like all Jedi (and also normal people). As for Han and Anakin getting along, however…

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Hehe, Han is getting subconscious revenge on Ani for his past crimes.

Padme Amaidala N. Skywalker: Oh, I'm saving all the good Padmé stuff for later…you'll see!

starryeidsurpriz: Good to know I got the father/son dynamic right!

Treenahasthaal: Well, I hope Luke and Ani turn out alright…I don't even know what I'm gonna do with this story yet!

Please review and help me make the next chapter amazing!


	5. Separation

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 5: Separation

by ArchFaith

"They've got more than just a suspicion," Luke answered, furrowing his eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest, sighing with obvious frustration. The two men had stopped walking; they now faced each other on the pathway, shadows edging their faces as the last vestiges of the red and orange sunset filtered through the thick trees. It was a fairly secluded area; halfway between the Ewok Village and the camp, it would be a good place to plan and strategize by themselves.

"What do you propose we do?" Anakin asked him. Of course, Anakin had a few ideas of his own brewing; but seeing as Luke knew the situation better than he, he would leave the central arrangements to his son. One thing, however, was certain; he could not fall under the Rebel Alliance. Inwardly, Anakin felt a guilty twinge well up in his heart; in all honesty, he was indeed everything the Alliance had made him out to be. A monster, a demon with no remorse, twisted and dark—these had been all the things Darth Vader had been known as. But was he—was Anakin Skywalker—also to be labeled as these things?

Thinking back over his many crimes of the past, Anakin felt a quick tightening in his chest, as if a small dart had punctured part of his heart. The destruction of the Jedi—he had been the single instrument in what would start as Palpatine's reign of terror, and the Jedi Order was all but gone from the galaxy now. Why should he try to preserve his own life when so many other innocents had died by his hand? He could not even begin to fathom the amount of pain and suffering he had inflicted on so many people throughout his lifetime; the gravity of his crimes was quickly starting to coalesce around him, and the aura of joy he had cultivated since his rebirth started to diminish. Perhaps it would be better to be handed off to the Rebels…things would be made much easier for Luke…

Luke's already overwrought mind suddenly felt the guilty shockwaves nearly radiating out of Anakin's mind. In an instant he was near his young father, placing both his hands against Anakin's shoulders and giving him a gentle shake. "Don't think like this," he ordered, quietly. "If you want to give yourself up to the Alliance, fine. But not until I learn as much as I can from you…not until I learn more about your past. I've come too far to let you go now. I saved you from death…the least you owe me is to preserve your life for me."

Frowning, Anakin looked back into Luke's azure eyes with a silent resignation. Luke was right; his son had done so many things for him that it was only right to stay alive and free, for his sake. Luke had lost both his parents before—Anakin would ensure that Luke did not lose him now. "Don't worry," he said, pulling Luke closer in an embrace. "I will, son."

It was the first time the two had embraced at all, since their time together; an almost awkward moment resolved into a comforting instant, as the two men grasped each other tightly. Anakin felt a quick rush against his heart; it was really the first time he had ever embraced anyone in twenty-three years, since he last embraced his wife on Mustafar. The sobering fact that he had never been able to embrace his son before cause him an intense feeling of regret; he absently patted Luke's back, with a vague feeling of encouragement.

Luke smiled weakly, his chin pressed against Anakin's shoulder. However unused both of them were to this new situation, their gestures as father and son ran purely on instinct. "Alright," he said, gently pulling away. "We're going to have to get offplanet. Do you have any ideas?"

Anakin drew back, his eyes focusing on the ground as various ideas ran through his head. "Well—there is Honoghr," he said thoughtfully, looking up. "The home of the Noghri…they're fanatically devoted to the Empire, and to myself."

"So I've heard," Luke answered. "It's near Kessel, isn't it?"

"Yes…" Anakin answered thoughtfully. "But…still, it's a bit risky. It's on the edge of Hutt Space…the last I heard, the Hutts have some of conflict going on near their regions. They've set up a blockade near Honoghr, and it might be difficult to get through…I don't have any credible data as of yet, and the last thing we want to create is a stir. The Rebels would be on to us soon enough. Besides," he added with a sigh. "They are virtual slaves to the Empire. I do not wish to use them any longer."

"Understood," Luke answered. "There has to be something else…"

"Tatooine?" Anakin suggested hopefully, knowing what Luke's reply would be.

Luke shook his head dismissively. "It's my home planet, and yours as well. We've pretty much been broadcasting the fact that we're from the same area…we need something a little more unexpected."

_Leia and I have formed a bond, Anakin. No matter how I try to shake her, she might have a way to find us._

The two men looked back at each with frowning, uneasy glances. Both ran over the list of possible places to where they could turn. Hoth, with its icy winds and barren wastelands, would be a prime place to stay hidden—but it was too desolate. The Rebel base on Hoth had long been destroyed, and other than a few smuggling outposts littered throughout the planet, was clearly uninhabitable, if only for a few weeks. Dagobah was also desolate, but more hospitable to life forms—but the entire planet was covered in swamplands. Luke, however, had no real wish to return to the place where he had witnessed the death of his dear master; Anakin, it seemed, was also uneasy at the mention of Yoda's home planet. There were other possible places to flee to as well—Yavin Four, Felucia, Aargau, and others.

There were literally millions of places to flee to within the galaxy—the problem, however, was in Leia. Leia could feel certain emotions and qualities from Luke, and from Anakin to an extent, but she could not communicate through the Force as her father and brother could—yet.

If they went a desolate, unpopulated planet, she would most likely locate them easily, or within a few days at least. Especially since she was now on the lookout. No…they needed a place full of distractions, engorged with sights and sounds, enough to confuse the mind of a newly-awakened Jedi…

"Coruscant," Luke whispered quietly.

"We'll go to Coruscant," Anakin answered. "Coruscant's undercities are impossible to navigate, even for the Empire's cataloguing system. There are levels upon levels of city…she will have a hard time locating you or I in the midst of all that. We'll take separate ships, then? To reduce their suspicions?"

"If they _can_ be reduced," Luke said, with an uneasy grin. "As crazy as this may sound…it might work. We can leave one day apart, and set our coordinates for different systems."

Anakin nodded. I'm sure no one will mind two brothers having a rendezvous on the wrong side of town, will they?"

Luke grinned. "Well, we do look like we have some of family resemblance," he began. "I guess we know where we're headed." Inwardly, though, he felt a dull pain seep through his insides as the two men again began to walk. The Alliance—the organization which had basically adopted him, given him a title and a ship to fight in, and even promoted him to the rank of Commander…he was betraying them. Perhaps not betraying them, but eluding them, keeping incredibly powerful information from them…

_Luke Skywalker, hero of the Rebel Alliance…and traitor to the cause._

Within his own mind, Anakin could sense Luke's sudden guilt springing to the surface. Glancing at his son, who seemed absorbed in his own troubles, Anakin gently shook his head. Thinking back on his own guilty feelings of only a few minutes before, he silently wondered if both were taking the right course of action; still, they had not talked about what both of them would do after a few weeks of hiding were over. Luke could not return to the Alliance without some credible explanation, and Anakin himself...well, there was always moisture farming back on Tatooine, he supposed.

Placing a hand on his son's shoulder, the two launched into their next plan of escape.

-

Luke stepped into the dirty corridor of the Millenium Falcon, his boots clanking against the unstable metal girders as he strode inside. Lando was engaged in his usual activities within the wiring trench, applying compresses to the various systems that had overheated during the attack on the Death Star. He looked up as Luke entered the room, smiling the usual suave grin. "What's up, Luke?" he asked. "Everything alright back on Tatooine?"

Luke cocked his head. "Not really," he answered, frowning. Well then…this is where the lies would begin. He had to do everything correctly—he had to use the right inflection, call up the appropriate responses, and act as if this lie was the only truth he had ever known. Part of him railed against this web of lies he would begin to weave; his conscience insisted that there must be some other way to go about things. But as he now saw it, there was not; and he had to get Anakin off Endor as soon as possible. This was the only way to do it.

"Han?" he called, pitching his voice so that it reached the Falcon's cockpit. Han had been inserting some screws into a small, rectangular hole on the dashboard, an angry look still upon his face; on hearing Luke's inquisitive voice, he immediately seemed to brighten. "Well, look who it is," he said warmly, rising from his seat. "Good thing you didn't bring pretty boy back with you."

Chewbacca lay down his tools, and shoved the mess of wires he had been working on back inside the walls of the Falcon's cockpit. The tall, imposing figure quickly joined Han as he entered the main area of the Falcon, smiling as he went up to Luke. "What's up?" he asked, putting a hand on Luke's shoulder.

Luke sighed; this was going to take a bit of acting. Han, Lando, and Chewie, however, were much easier to convince than Leia; they took their friend at face value, and placed great trust in whatever he said. Now would be the time to take advantage of this trust…quickly pushing aside his guilty thoughts, he launched into his story.

"I need to go back to Tatooine," he began, his eyes fixing to the floor as he avoided their attentive gazes. "These last few days have been…pretty rough on me. I was thinking of just heading back home for a bit…resting for a little while."

Han let out a low whistle. "Rest is always good," he answered reflectively. "Now that Palpatine and Vader are dead, we sure could use some time off. Ain't that right, Chewie?" he asked, nudging the Wookie in the ribs. Chewbacca looked towards him and growled affirmatively.

"You going on back to your moisture farm?" Lando enquired, raising an eyebrow.

Luke nodded. "Yeah. I haven't been back there since my aunt and uncle died. My friends have been keeping up the place, but I figure it's time I drop in to let them know I'm still alive."

Han nodded, giving Luke a swift pat on the shoulder. "Well, you go on ahead. You tell Leia about this, by the way?"

"She's wrapped up doing work for Mothma and Ackbar," Luke answered. "I'll leave it to you guys to let her know; I'm leaving in a few minutes, as soon as I get to the landing strip. Think you can handle it?"

Han cocked his head, in slight confusion. "Sure," he said slowly, frowning. "We'll let her know."

Luke smiled, in an attempt to keep things light and quickly moving. "Thanks," he said. "I'll be back in a few weeks, count no more than three or four."

Lando quickly rose up to give Luke a tight embrace. "Take care of yourself, old pal," he said warmly, grinning. "You deserve a nice, long rest."

Chewbacca also bestowed an embrace upon his friend; struggling to breathe through Chewie's tight grasp, Luke smiled amidst the tufts of long brown fur. "I'll see you soon, Chewie," he said, patting the Wookie on the arm.

"Take care, kid," Han said simply, patting Luke's arm in a brotherly way. Though Han was about the farthest thing from Force-sensitive as one could possibly be, he sensed something innately wrong with this arrangement. Luke told Leia everything; now that they had discovered that they were brother and sister, he surmised that their bond would grow even closer. Still, Luke had chosen to keep his departure to Tatooine a secret from her. Though he was no master of subtlety, he could tell that there was some underlying tone in Luke's seemingly simple words—what did this mean?

Luke gave Han a simple nod, and briefly embraced his good friend before turning to exit the Falcon. Striding down the long corridor, Luke's smile quickly turned into a grimace. Han had noticed something was wrong—it didn't take a Jedi Knight to figure out there were obvious holes in this story Luke had fed them. Lando and Chewie did not seem to notice—they, however, were not as close as Han was to Luke. Then there was the matter of Leia—that had to arouse some suspicion as well…

The entire situation grew more and more tangled as they went along. Silently wishing that there could be another way out of it, he quickly strode towards the landing pad.

-

"Good luck, Luke," the black-haired man said warmly, shaking Luke's hand.

Luke, in return, gave his friend a quick nod. "Thanks, Wedge," he answered. "I'll be seeing you soon." He briefly turned to the small astromech droid that had been standing next to Wedge on the platform. "Ready, Arfour?"

The small, red-plated droid beeped enthusiastically before rolling forwards. Wedge, raising an eyebrow, put a hand against his hip. "You're not taking Artoo Detoo?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

Luke placed a hand against the red droid's round base. "Not this time," he answered. "Artoo needs some maintenance. Besides, he told me he's tired of coming with me on missions…says they're too dangerous for his tastes."

"That sounds like something Threepio would say," Wedge protested. "Maybe he's rubbing off on Artoo in all the wrong places."

Luke grinned. "Maybe," he answered. He turned from Wedge to look up at the graceful, lithe ship—it was an X-wing, Luke's transport of choice ever since he had flown his fateful mission against the first Death Star. It was sleek, yet seemed innately full of energy; what larger vessels had in power, it seemed to have in spirit. The ship sat squarely, parked on the landing pad's outer perimeter as Luke strode up to the portable ladder that had been leaned against it.

Wedge turned, and motioned for the soldiers behind him to bring out the mechanized crane that would position the astromech droid within the ship's frame. Luke leaned against the ladder, absently thoughtful as the small robot was hoisted up onto the ship.

_This has to work. It just has to. _

He squeezed his eyes shut for one brief instant.

_And if it doesn't…I will help him fight against them._

Arfour had been successfully lowered into the X-wing's trench, and was cheerfully plugging itself into the mainframe of the ship. Luke turned and gave Wedge a rather solemn salute, followed by a minor grin. "See you," he said shortly, as his boots barely touched the rungs of the ladder. In a quick second he was seated inside, his fingers fastening the familiar, battered helmet around his sandy head.

_See you soon, Anakin._

The ship's engines quickly flared up, and the transparent latch closed as the ship gently rose up, just a few feet off the platform. Taking one last check to see that everything was alright within his vessel, the young Jedi flipped on the ignition boosters and was soon hovering far above the emerald forests of Endor.

-

"How are you doing, Artoo?"

The short, blue plated droid beeped cheerfully, shaking its round metal head back and forth. It looked well enough; aside from a few dents and scratches, it had been given a thorough cleaning by the Alliance's engineers. And, unlike Threepio, Artoo seemed to have some semblance of a memory of the man who now knelt before him. As they crouched together in the small tent at base camp, the curious droid was extremely eager to know what exactly he was involved in.

In a gesture vaguely reminiscent of a certain princess four years earlier, Anakin bent down to retrieve a small data disk from Artoo's metal innards. He retrieved the thin grey slab and quickly tucked it into a secret pocket, built into the thin cotton undershirt he wore. "Good work," he said, patting the droid's side fondly. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

The droid answered, presumably in the negative; Anakin smiled and quickly looked over to the small parcel Luke had delivered to him before his departure. "Let's see what Luke wants me to do now," he whispered to himself, ripping open the paper holdings of the package.

In a moment he held up the orange flightsuit and breathing devices used by Alliance pilots, along with a brand new, standard issue helmet emblazoned with the Rebel symbol. Cocking his head, he quickly unzipped the flightsuit and placed his legs into the suit's pants. Quickly slipping it up over his shoulders, he slipped his arms into the sleeves and strapped the breathing device around his neck. "Convincing enough?" he asked the droid, who had been sitting quietly.

Artoo answered with a confusing series of beeps and whistles; Anakin frowned and continued dressing. In a few minutes, he looked the very image of a seasoned Rebel pilot; smoothing his hair back against his head, he picked up the helmet and motioned for Artoo to follow him. "Don't make too much noise," he instructed the droid, patting its metal head.

Man and droid quietly crept out of the tent, making soft noises against the ground as they wound their way through the Rebel camp. The troops would soon be leaving Endor; as much as the Ewoks welcomed them and adored them, they could not afford to live the rest of their lives in constant celebration and merriment; though the Empire was dead, it would still take much time to rebuild the fragile new Republic. For now, though, they slept; it would be no surprise to them when they were put to work early the next day.

Within the space of an hour, Anakin and Artoo found themselves approaching the main landing strip, near the former Imperial outpost. Several small ships were stationed against the pad's black ground; one of these ships would be the key to Anakin's escape.

A young black-haired man was dictating a series of notes into a data device as Anakin approached. Raising an eyebrow, the man quickly shut off his data pad and met Anakin at the edge of the landing strip. "What is it, soldier?" he asked, in a firm, yet undemanding voice. As Artoo rolled up behind Anakin, however, the man raised a curious eyebrow.

"General Antilles," Anakin greeted, bowing in a formal manner. "My name is Private Naberrie, of the Ferry Squadron. I don't believe we have met, but I must speak to you about an urgent matter."

Wedge nodded his head as Anakin continued. "General, I've received word that an uncle of mine is extremely ill. I've been asked by my family to go to him; he is stationed on Chandrila at the moment, and the rest of my family cannot make the trip right now. We think these next few days may be his last."

Wedge nodded sympathetically. "Chandrila, hm? Your family can't make the trip themselves?"

Anakin breathed in slowly, gathering his senses. He had been so used to concealing certain pieces of knowledge from the Emperor that he was quite adept at lying; unlike Luke, in whom Anakin had sensed extreme indecision, Anakin found himself without any qualms.

"It's harvest season on Tatooine," he replied, recalling broken images from his own childhood. "My whole family is needed to work our farm. If even one of them leaves, we might have substantial losses."

Wedge frowned. "Understood," he said quietly. "Do you have clearance from a superior?"

Anakin quickly took out the data disk he had been concealing. "I informed Commander Skywalker of my intentions a few hours ago, and he gave me clearance using this disk."

He handed it to Wedge, who flipped his data pad over and swiftly inserted it into a small slot built into the side. A screen popped up, complete with a message from Luke concerning the departure of Private Ani Naberrie. It was a standard issue Rebel letter; a thorough explanation was written out, complete with Luke's electronic signature signed in large letters at the bottom.

"Well, everything checks out," Wedge said slowly. "Commander Skywalker left about a few hours ago, though…you didn't think to leave with him?"

"I just had to tie up a few loose ends around here," Anakin answered, raising an eyebrow in an effort to throw Wedge off.

Wedge nodded knowingly; from Anakin's tone, he surmised that he had been saying goodbye to a girlfriend in the troops, or something of that sort. It was no surprise that romances developed within the daily drill of Alliance duties; it was a common thing, and it was probably what the young private referred to. "Alright then," he said. "Luke said he wanted you to have an X-wing, but I'm afraid all of our X-wings have pilots waiting for them. I've got no spares at the moment, but you can take one of our smaller supply ships." Wedge waved his hand towards the large collection of Rebel vessels. "It's not very fancy, but we have spare cargo ships equipped for small electronic transports. They're built for one pilot and one navigator, but I think you'll be fine fulfilling both positions. Come with me."

The two men strode past the X-wings, taking a few minutes to traverse the rather large landing pad that was populated by the imposing metal ships. Artoo followed, much to Wedge's obvious discomfort; something was not right about this. Though everything checked out, a certain sense of secrecy seemed to be concealed in both Luke's and this young pilot's stories. And Artoo…Luke had not taken Artoo with him…

Shaking off his doubt, he tried to place trust in his friend as he showed Anakin to a small, rectangular ship, shaped like a metal trapezoid. It had one large viewing window at the front, and squat landing feet embedded it into the ground. A set of stairs descended from a hatch that opened onto the bottom of the ship. "This is a transport shuttle equipped for thermal detonators," he began. "It's small, but those explosives couldn't be transported with the rest of our equipment. It's been cleaned out now, and we don't have any more use for it. It would be no problem if you took it."

Anakin nodded gratefully. "Thank you, General," he said. "I'll leave right away." The blonde-haired man gestured to the small astromech droid. "Let's get going, Artoo."

The blue-plated robot beeped in affirmation, and slowly rolled towards Anakin. Wedge frowned; he had not wanted to say anything before, but it was just so curious; and something seemed off, somehow. It would not hurt to ask a few questions, he supposed.

"Tell me, Private," he began, crossing his arms over his chest. "Did Commander Skywalker also give you permission to bring that Artoo unit with you?"

"Yes, General," Anakin answered submissively. He patted the droid's metal head as Artoo turned to face Wedge.

"Artoo Detoo is usually Commander Skywalker's chief astromech droid," Wedge continued, noting the young pilot's face. "Did he tell you why he wasn't taking this droid with him?"

_Great, _Anakin thought, looking back over at the droid. That he and Luke's plans should be foiled in such a trivial way…Luke had intentionally given Artoo to Anakin, to use at his disposal for his flight to Coruscant. Anakin was quite out of practice in flying with an astromech droid, and Artoo had been the obvious choice to refresh his memory; Luke had volunteered to take another droid, Arfour Defour, aboard with him on his X-wing. Besides, Anakin and Artoo had been well-acquainted in the past; unlike Threepio, whose memory had been erased when they were living on Alderaan, Artoo's full memory remained intact. He fully remembered the Jedi Knight who stood in front of him, and was quite excited—and confused—to see him again. It had been a good idea to leave Artoo with Anakin…or so they had thought…

"He didn't tell me anything about it, sir," Anakin answered politely. "He wanted to take another droid with him. Artoo volunteered to come with me."

Wedge nodded incredulously. No matter what he thought, he could not detain this young private; his story checked out, and he had electronic permission from one of the greatest heroes of the rebellion. To detain a pilot because of suspicions about the droid…well, that was just an absurd idea. No matter what Luke had said about Artoo before, it was a casual comment; perhaps the little droid had changed his mind after all. Sighing, he gestured towards the shuttle.

"Good luck, Private," he said, stiffening up. "I'll give the command center clearance to let you go."

"Thank you, General," Anakin answered, bowing low. He patted the droid's shiny surface. "Let's get going, then."

Wedge turned, to make his way across the maze of ships settled on the landing strip. Anakin quickly ascended to the small ramp, his boots tapping against the metal pads as he climbed aboard the small vessel. Artoo followed, making his way as fast as he could up the ramp. Taking one last look to make sure the droid was aboard the ship, Anakin quickly located the ramp's button against the wall. He quickly pushed it, and made his way towards the front of the shuttle. Artoo obediently followed, taking his place behind the pilot's chair as Anakin quickly strapped himself into the seat.

-

A short, black-cloaked figure fairly flew across the surface of the landing pad, emerging from the darkened forest slope beyond; with quick feet and light steps, it quickly made its way through the Y-wings and transport shuttles stationed against the landing pad, quick enough to evade the various Rebel motion detectors that had been placed around the strip's perimeter. It danced across the hard ground, stealing its way though the ships as it quickly spotted the small thermal detonator transport. The ramp was already being taken up into the ship; there was only one chance…

With a rush of anger and steadfast determination, the dark figure ran towards the ramp, clambering up as the hatch quickly closed, sealing the ship from the outside elements. The young private and the astromech droid were engaged in setting their coordinates in the front of the ship; without wasting any time, the figure quickly opened the door to one of the various supply closets located in the shuttle's small hallway. Sinking down to the ground within, the figure gently patted the blaster that was concealed against its chest.

_Now I wait._

-

To be continued.

Next time: Who is the mysterious figure aboard the transport with Anakin and Artoo? Will they make it to Coruscant safely, or will something come up to destroy their plans? Stay tuned!

End notes: Well, that certainly took me a long time to write! In between writing the last chapter and this chapter, I was involved in a lot of things…

1. my final exams

2. moving out of my college dorm

3. unpacking all my stuff at home

4. going to Star Wars Celebration IV, the largest (and only) Star Wars convention in the world!

Yes, I was lucky…I went to Celebration this year, and let me tell you…it was truly amazing, and anyone who loves Star Wars would have had a blast. I dressed up as Princess Leia and an original Star Wars Gothic Lolita outfit (don't laugh!) and there are some pictures in my gallery. The link can be found in my profile, for anyone who wants to see…

But anyway, back to the story. Someone had suggested that Luke and Anakin go to Honoghr, where the Noghri would take care of them…ideally, that would be the best plan to take. But I've already mapped out where the story is going, so that's out of the picture. Truth be told, not too much happened in this chapter, but I had to set up some exposition. I didn't want to just say, "Luke and Anakin decide to go to Coruscant and then Luke leaves and Han has suspicions and then Wedge is wondering why Anakin has Artoo with him…" and so and so on. I like to write about little details and what the characters feel and everything, and I felt I had to write non-action-filled parts as well. I hope you enjoyed my story very much, and please leave me some constructive criticism in your reviews! I want to make the next chapter even better!

TheSummoningDark: Hehe. In a weird way, I did always think Han and Anakin would get along. If Han can look past that little torturing episode, that is…

ILDV: You don't need to tell me how hot Anakin is in Episode III!!! Oh man, he's smoking! But still, Luke in Episode IV is so cute and naïve it's hard not to love him. I think Episode IV Luke is my favorite of all! And yes, Tarkin, not Vader, destroyed Alderaan, but I would think Leia blames Vader as well. Besides, Tarkin's dead, so she's got no one to carry out her revenge on…

Alien Roxi: Leia's bad in my story! Well, not bad, just…out for revenge. Understandable, though…

mlhkvh5: Padme being alive? Interesting idea, hm…glad you like Han and Anakin's conversations though!

VFSNAKE: Hope you're happy! I actually researched Honoghr and the Noghri, but decided to stick to my original plans for Luke and Ani. As for lightsabers, well…we'll handle that when it comes down to it…

Rhodna: Rebel Command is highly suspicious, but only because someone's been alerting them to Ani's existence…hehehe.

Vicster200: Glad you like the humor! It's so easy to write a bad comedy story…

Rya Likao: Thanks so much!!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Hehe, well…Anakin's never played the Daddy role before, and he's having a hard enough time with Luke as it is. Yell at his daughter's boyfriend after he helps fix the guy's ship? Hmmm…

WhiteRobedJedi: Hm, as for Ani teaching Luke or Leia about lightsabers…maaaaybe I can work that in. If there's enough time, that is…

Sentrosi: Yeah, I noticed that. I'm just too lazy to fix it…I'm horrible, I know! Thanks for pointing it out, though!

Princess-Aiel: Thank you very much!

XXX: Hehe. Well, Anakin has never even known Leia before, so I'm assuming he's not really that troubled about Leia and Han doing stuff together, hehehe.

MJ Mink: Thanks so much! I hope I hit all the emotions correctly!

c: I'll try to deliver!

LOL: Hehe, it's Han's fault for insulting Anakin in the first place!!

Charlie Hayden: Nah, Tatooine's out of the question. They'll be headed to a much more interesting locale…

PLEASE: Uh…I don't know anything about Bast Castle. But I'll try to make them go somewhere inviting, I promise!!

Darth Kiryan: I'll bet Leia's scoured the Database by now…but thanks, I'll keep more coming!

alexceasar: It's coming soon!!

Cyranothe2nd: Well, when Leia said that Luke had an interesting choice of tentmate, she wasn't really referring to his looks…she was talking about how suspicious he was! And for making Anakin really young…well, I couldn't resist. Episode III Ani is hot!!

Please help me out, people…review and tell me what you liked, didn't like, etc. I want to make this story awesome!!


	6. Pursuit

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 6: Pursuit

by ArchFaith

"Alright then," Anakin whispered to himself, slowly looking over the dashboard. Feeling a surprising feeling of familiarity come over him, he confidently flipped on the necessary switches and turned a couple of dials. "It looks like everything is just about right…there's enough fuel on this ship to get us all the way to Coruscant and back again."

Artoo beeped, rolling up behind Anakin's seat. Though Anakin could not understand Artoo's mechanical language, he could tell that the droid was expressing some kind of emotion—sadness, it seemed. He sighed; if only a Jedi's power of understanding extended into the realm of astromech droids as well.

"You can't really do much around this ship, can you?" he asked, patting the droid's chrome head. Artoo answered affirmatively, shaking back and forth as if he were an agitated child.

"Sorry, Artoo…we were expecting an X-wing, but I think they gave us a pretty good upgrade," Anakin responded. He cocked his head and turned back to the control panel. Looking out of the viewing window, he could see that the shuttle was already far above the atmosphere of Endor—looking down, one could see the vast green sea of trees which comprised the entire surface of the lush planet. Every now and then, the sea of green was broken by splotches of blue, small lakes and rivers littering through the emerald sphere; the young Jedi took it in with a deep breath, his azure eyes focusing on the now-distant Rebel base that was disappearing into the forests.

His eyes quickly turned to the dashboard, and he quickly flipped on a few switches. On the data screen, a few pieces of explanatory information popped up; scanning over them, he noted the directions and quickly set about to prepare.

Artoo whistled, shaking his metal head from side to side. Anakin rose, and flipped open a small metal box mounted on the wall above the control panel. Inside, there was a single, large red button; he pushed it, and immediately the hyperdrive's thrusters seemed to turn over and flare. Underneath the shuttle, a few loud scratches and bumps were audible; like the energy motivators on a landspeeder, the shuttle's engines quickly revved up and started groaning.

In a few moments, he felt the familiar rush of the engines as the hyperdrive kicked in. The stars suddenly became a blinding rush of light against the viewing window of the vessel; in a moment they seemed to be surrounded by a burst of white light, all while the ship seemed to hurtle through space. _Pretty slow_, Anakin mused, placing a hand on his hip. Of course, during the last few years he had been so used to the powerful hyperdrives engines of Star Destroyers that a small shuttle's lightspeed seemed like only a crawl to him.

"Sounds like it's working," Anakin said, turning to Artoo with a smile. "We'll drift for a bit, but it looks like we'll be out of here soon." He absently patted the droid's head as he scanned the interior of the craft; he had hardly had time to look at it as he got onboard, and a vague sense of curiosity overcame him as he looked about. "Let's have a look around," he suggested. "We'll be here for a few hours, at least."

The droid whistled enthusiastically, and turned itself around as Anakin advanced out of the cockpit. It was a small, practically built shuttle; directly across the cockpit was a long corridor, leading to a few rooms in the back. One large, empty room seemed to have been the place where the thermal detonators had been stored; a few empty crates still stood near the wall, but the explosives seemed to have been cleared away. Two other small rooms each contained a small mattress and writing desk, and another room had been set aside for packets of rations and extra clothes, all tucked neatly into shelves upon the wall. A small closet door stood in the corridor leading back to the cockpit, and next to it was a small socket used to supply droids with energy.

Artoo rolled up to the socket and turned his head back to Anakin. With a questioning whistle, a hatch popped open on the droid's surface, and a small power plug emerged.  
Anakin grinned. "Go on ahead," he said. "I won't be needing you for a while. You can switch off too…conserve your energy."

Artoo beeped in gratefulness, and quickly inserted the plug into the small socket. A low hum began to emerge from the tiny droid, and within a few minutes he had stopped moving all together. Anakin went up to the droid, and knelt down to check Artoo's energy levels. Flipping open a small door on Artoo's side, he peered into the data screen within. Artoo's power had been running on the low side; he had been running on emergency power cells ever since the ground battle on Endor. There had simply been no time to recharge him since then; well, it was good that he would be able to rest.

_Rest,_ Anakin thought, straightening up. _Something I really need…_ He quickly advanced down the hallway, and went back into the cockpit. Luke, he knew, would already be about one-quarter of the way to Coruscant by now; he had left six standard hours before, and was probably counting away the hours in his small X-wing. Perhaps being given a transport shuttle instead of an X-wing was a blessing in disguise; there were beds on board, and Anakin was sure he would make good use of them.

But before he turned in, he would have to recheck the shuttle's controls. He had already entered his destination of Coruscant into the ship's hyperdrive menu, but several of the stabilizers and thrusters seemed to be a little off in their calibrations. No matter; only a few minutes of adjustment would take care of this.

The door to the supply closet slowly slid open.

His gloved hands quickly danced over the panels, tweaking several dials and pushing a few choice buttons. It had been so long since he had piloted a ship; not counting his own private hunts in his TIE fighters, he had not flown by himself in a very long time.

Boot-clad feet stepped soundlessly past the dormant astromech droid, inching their way down the corridor towards the cockpit.

Space…the freedom, the energy. These hours he would spend at lightspeed—alone, without company save the sleeping droid—would indeed be a change from the many years he had spent, constantly surrounded by lackeys and henchmen aboard city-spanning Star Destroyers, hurtling through space. The last ship he had ever really piloted by himself had been that fateful transport to—

He spun around, in a sudden frantic terror; the butt of a long blaster hit him squarely in the face, causing him to crash face down onto the control panel. Feeling the warm blood snaking its way down his face, he quickly reeled away from the dashboard, narrowly missing a shot from his unknown assailant. In an instant he reached for the blaster strapped to his belt, but it was already gone; he found himself looking down the barrel of an assault blaster, as the smug click of his own blaster sounded in the dark figure's other hand.

"Sit down," the dark figure commanded, gesturing to the pilot's seat once again. The voice was dark and forbidding, edged with the ring of a hidden agenda and laced with callous overtones. "You may be a Jedi, but I have the willpower to strike you down, if it comes down to that."

Stunned, Anakin raised his arms in quiet surrender; showing the figure the palms of his hands, now slightly tinged with fresh blood; his countenance grew angry and appalled. Why had he not noticed this before? He should have known something was amiss; he should have felt this certain _presence _aboard the ship before it had even cleared the landing strip! Why had he faltered now? Everything had been going according to plan, and now this…what kind of power was this, to conceal one's conscious soul from a Jedi? He had never even thought to open the supply closet…

Still, as he stood staring down at the hooded figure who now aimed its blaster straight towards his heart, he suddenly understood.

The memories.

The anger.

Pain. _Alderaan…_

"Are you going to kill me, Leia?" he asked calmly, his eyes focused on the partially concealed face that grimaced under the hood.

"Hmph," the figure responded, with an uneasy tone. "Sit down," she commanded again. "I won't hesitate to kill you, Vader. I'm sure my brother will be quite upset if he learns that you've died after all he's done for you."

Frowning, Anakin slowly moved towards the pilot's chair, his legs sinking onto the cushioned surface as he slowly sat back. Leia moved towards the co-pilot's seat, but did not sit down; she remained standing, her liquid brown eyes quickly analyzing his every move.

She was dressed in plain black clothing, reminiscent of Luke's own preferred black outfit that he had worn for the past few months. She wore plain black military pants and a pleated blouse, along with heeled boots and a belt; her belt held a long holster, suitable for the assault blaster she had carried with her onboard. Her wavy brown hair was tied simply in a long braid. The long cape gathered around her, encasing her in a dark mass of blackness; standing there, her face stern and unyielding, she looked not unlike the familiar black-caped figure who had preyed upon the galaxy for so many years before.

"How did you get onboard?" he immediately asked, looking up at her.

She sighed impatiently. "I learned, Vader, to conceal my thoughts and presence from you…from Luke, even, if I had to."

"So you know all along that I was still alive." There was no use in lying to her anymore; he realized that, from the very first moment they had laid eyes on each other on Endor, she had known who he was. The looks, the glances, the vaguely-felt emanations of hatred that had floated between them…so faint then. And yes—when she worked to conceal herself, it was indeed a fruitful endeavor.

She nodded. "You spoke to me when you and Luke were aboard that shuttle. I knew that something was wrong…that you weren't _dead_." The last word was spoken with a scornful accent; without releasing her aim on Anakin, she quickly went around the side, until she stood behind her father's chair.

Anakin took a deep breath, and gathered what little darkness he still felt within his heart, and quickly pushed it out onto the surface. He had been trained to preserve his own life; even now, as his heart beat only for Luke's benefit, he would not let his life be taken from him.

"I could destroy you, young one," he whispered, in a low dangerous voice. "Though you have weapons, I could kill you with my bare hands."

"Could you?!" Leia demanded, seemingly unstirred. "Will you kill me as you tried to kill Luke?" Her heart was racing now; she could feel a dull pain sounding in her ears, and tried in vain to block out the terrible throbbing of her heart. "A horror to the galaxy at large—the beast who preys upon his own offspring when he feels the need to feed off living energy…"

_"Enough!"_ Anakin almost screamed, immediately flying up from his seat. His anger, his shame at having been deceived, had been quietly seething beneath the surface; now, with Leia's caustic remarks, he felt his mind exploding with rage. In the blink of an eye he was standing, rushing towards Leia in a frenzied kind of defense. Eyes widening, she quickly fired the blaster, sending a snippet of pure energy hurtling past Anakin, just grazing his right arm above the elbow.

"Ah!" he cried, grasping his arm in pain as Leia fired another shot. This one penetrated down to his leg, screeching past his thigh and dissolving into the dashboard. He collapsed to the floor, crying out as the sharp pain spread through his flesh and through his veins. This had been no ordinary blaster she had been using; no, it was built for heavy duty hunts, and designed to take multiple victims in one single shot. Doubled over in pain, staring down at the bloody, searing gashes on his arm and leg, he slowly looked up at the small woman whose aim was, as always, unhesitant.

"Will you kill me, Leia?" he asked again, easing himself into a kneeling position against the cold floor. The blast shots had shot across his tender skin; blood now poured out of his wounds, and he grasped his arm in an attempt to keep the pain from spreading through to other parts of his body.

"You have no right to call me 'Leia'," the princess demanded, eyes narrowing. "I am Princess Leia Organa, former heir to the throne of Alderaan…the world your Empire destroyed."

He looked up to her, his azure eyes locked onto her intense brown orbs. "Princess Leia," he whispered, struggling to ensure that his blood loss would be only minimal, "Why did you follow me here?"

"Because I wanted revenge," she whispered, her eyes meeting his without mercy. "For all that Luke said you did—that you saved him from death, that you killed the Emperor—I will never forgive you for what you've done. Not only to my own people, but to the countless billions throughout the galaxy that have suffered until your regime."

_Her blaster…if I can just get to one of them…_

He reached out his unwounded arm, and in an instant the smaller blaster had been yanked out of Leia's grip. Anticipating his move, she fired the assault blaster straight towards his fingers; he reacted by withdrawing his hand, and swiftly sprang to his feet. Ignoring the painful gashes on his arm and leg, he shot towards Leia and reached out for the blaster.

Gritting her teeth, the young princess clenched her arms around the smaller weapon as Anakin grabbed the barrel of the assault blaster; she fired it, but the shot only succeeded in causing a small rip on the metal ceiling of the cockpit. Even if Anakin was stronger than she, she would not let him overpower her; years of agony and defeat had prepared her for the struggle that was ahead.

Breathing heavily, the Jedi was able to yank the smaller blaster away from Leia's now-slipping grip; at the same moment, his other hand caught the barrel of the assault blaster and kept it staunchly erect in the air. With a cry of frustration, she fired another shot; the ship's ceiling shook from the impact, and steam began to pour of the vents wired into the walls above.

Anakin leveled the blaster against Leia's throat, his face a twisted grimace as he scowled at her. "Don't be a fool," he whispered in a deadly tone. "If you keep shooting, we'll both be done for in a few minutes."

Leia's breathing, which had suddenly grown labored and fearful, now resumed a stronger tone. She narrowed her eyes, still clutching the assault blaster close to her chest. "Monster," she whispered, tears now gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Will you now do to me what you did to my mother?"

_Did to my mother._

Anakin quickly stepped back, suddenly aghast at his own actions. Lowering his blaster, he once again clutched his arm in pain, and tried to massage the weakening nerves as he felt his grazed leg quiver once again. Panting in exhaustion, his eyes blinking back to hold the tears that now struggled to be free, he stood still at he directed his blue gaze to Leia.

In slight confusion at his sudden submissiveness, Leia lowered her rifle, gripping it even more tightly than before. He had stopped; he had stopped struggling against her, and now stood simply in the middle of the cockpit, even as the blood from his gashes dripped against the orange fabric of his flightsuit. Was he giving in? Would he deceive her, and use a trap against her?

In a moment she received her answer.

-

_Flashes of a small boy in a dark room, filled with spare mechanical parts that looked as though they were used for droids or starships. A young girl stood in the room with him; he addressed her, and they began to talk._

_Years later, it seemed, they spoke again; on a sun-soaked balcony overlooking a gorgeous lake. The boy was older now; he was dressed in the robes of a Jedi, and he was peering down into the woman's face. She was resplendent in a dress of pale rainbow shades, and as he bent down to kiss her, the waves lapped against the grassy banks on the shore below._

_His hand lay against her stomach now; they were asleep in bed, in a dark apartment located in a sparkling city of lights and noises. The woman lay against him, sleeping peacefully as his fingers wandered over the full curve of her stomach. He absently drummed against her sleeping form; though there were not only two people sharing this bed. There were four…_

-

She dropped the blaster to the floor, letting it hit the metal ground with a dull thud. Never before had she received such a barrage of images—such a flooding of her senses, such a direct route into the memories of another. She stared blankly into her father's eyes as her entire body suddenly grew slack; her mind grew weak and dizzy, and she blinked several times. She swayed forwards, but managed to keep on her feet.

_Is this the first time you have ever seen such things?_

She looked up; Anakin had not budged from his place in the center of the cockpit. His eyes were still focused upon her intently; his face, however, had softened, and he was now staring at her in an inquisitive glance.

She hesitated, suddenly; though she had always been able to receive certain emotions and messages from Luke, she had never really attempted to reach out through the Force in the same way. She had never spoken directly through the Force—she had not thought that it was possible for her to achieve the level of Luke's understanding. Now, however, she felt differently—now that she had seen those short, fleeting images, she felt more confident in her scant understanding of her power.

With a deep sigh, she responded.

_I have seen her face before…I know her name. Padmé._

Anakin briefly closed his eyes at the mention of the name. _You must know that I loved her beyond emotion. That I did everything in my power to keep her and the both of you safe from harm…_

_And yet she died because she loved you…you forsook her. You left her to die, _came Leia's unsympathetic response.

A single tear slowly traced its way down Anakin's tanned cheek as he felt the pain in his leg begin to tighten. "Will you help me bind these wounds?" he asked out loud, his voice low.

Leia sighed deeply, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes wavered with a watery pain.

"Alright," she answered simply.

-

Artoo, resting in his vegetative state, had thankfully been unaware of all that happened around him as the scuffle unfolded. He sat dormant against the wall of the shuttle, still plugged into his socket as two pairs of feet slowly made their way down the corridor, one limping slightly.

Leia was in a daze; mechanically, she opened the door to the resting chamber. Anakin followed her, still massaging his throbbing arm with his free hand as he collapsed down onto the bed. She was calmer now, at least—the images he had given her had come from the deepest parts of his soul, long-lost images that not even he had recalled for many years. Luke might have received more thorough explanations, but Leia had received the images—he would have to balance out the share between his two children soon enough. If Leia allowed him to see Luke again, that was…

Leia opened the cabinets built into the walls of the room. A large cabinet yielded what she had been looking for; a large medical box stamped with some instructions on its usage. She gripped the sides and hoisted it out of the cabinet; with an effort, she heaved the box onto the floor, leaving it to rest at Anakin's feet.

"Let me see," she whispered, coming to sit closer to Anakin on the bed.

Anakin gently offered her his wounded arm; she gripped his arm gently, applying gentle pressure with her fingers against the gashed wound. "It's clotting," she said, turning to the box next to her on the floor. Reaching down, she opened the lid of the box and peered inside. Various bottles and smaller boxes had been set up inside the box in neat arrangement; she swiftly pulled out a smaller bottle and unscrewed the top of the silver container.

"Healing salve," she said, taking some of the white ointment between her fingers. She gently spread it against Anakin's wound. "It shouldn't take too long to heal," she whispered, patting the rest of it against his wound. "It will hurt for a bit, but these wounds aren't fatal."

Anakin nodded. "I've had much worse," he answered, with a weak smile. "Here…give me that. I can put it on my other wound myself."

She handed him the bottle, and the two spent a few minutes in contemplative silence as Anakin spread the healing ointment over the gash on his leg. The wounds were not too deep; merely surface scars, though they were incredibly painful nonetheless. The bacta healing ointment would soon heal the scars, and in a few days, they would cease to exist whatsoever.

_That doesn't mean it didn't hurt._

Leia crossed her arms over her chest, breathing in slowly as Anakin laid the empty bottle on the dresser table. He sat back, and for a few more moments both said nothing; Leia turned her eyes to the floor, as Anakin looked down into his lap.

It seemed like an eternity before a word was exchanged. And it was Anakin who decided to cross the barrier.

"Should we start at the beginning?" he asked simply, directing his blue gaze towards her face.

It was a few moments before Leia answered with a simple nod. She remained as guarded as ever; though she had discarded her blasters, it was as if she had been gifted with invisible weapons of quite a different caliber.

"Did you know from the start?"

Leia again nodded. "From when I sent that transmission to Luke aboard the shuttle…I knew the voice that answered me was not his. Though you tried to disguise it, it did not work…I knew something was wrong. I knew that Luke had someone else with him aboard the ship."

Anakin nodded, gently lowering his eyes to the ground. "Did you know it was me?"

"You?" Leia shot back, almost spitting the word out. "If 'you' refers to Darth Vader, then yes. I knew that it was you." Her voice wavered, then grew confident once again. "I only learned that I was descended from a Jedi a few days ago, Vader…yet for all my life I have felt this certain awareness, certain feelings…emotions from distant people, all echoing in my mind. I felt Luke through the Force; I knew he was alive, and that he had survived. But I felt someone else, as well…someone I had encountered before."

Guilt seemed to descend upon Anakin like a hammer upon an anvil, roasting in a primitive blacksmith's fire; he sighed loudly, unwittingly allowing his discomfort to be felt by Leia as well.

"I knew there was something about you," he whispered, looking back at her. "Your power…your grace. Even when the truth serum was injected into you on the first Death Star, you told me nothing." His voice cracked as he continued to speak. "Very much like your mother, Princess Leia."

Leia narrowed her eyes, in an attempt to hold back the tears which had again started to gather near her eyes. "Tell me about Padmé," she whispered in a determined voice. "I want to know about Padmé."

Anakin was about to answer when a loud, excited beeping commenced from the corridor. Surprised, father and daughter quickly peered towards the open door; whatever it was, it could not have been well. Their feelings were confirmed when Artoo suddenly appeared in the doorway, his head shaking backwards and forwards as a string of electronic beeps and whistles sounded from inside his dome.

"Artoo? What's the matter?" Anakin asked, quickly leaning forward.

The little droid seemed to be shaking with some kind of fear; after a few confused moments, a small slip of paper printed in Aurebesh popped out of a side slot built into the small droid. Anakin quickly snapped up the slip, and read over it with a stern countenance.

Artoo only resorted to written word when the situation called for immediate attention.

"What is it?" Leia demanded, rising out of her seat on the bed.

Anakin frowned, creasing his eyebrows as he slowly turned to his daughter.

"Princess...do you have any experience disarming thermal detonators?"

-

To be continued…

Next chapter: A stray thermal detonator has been found aboard Leia and Anakin's shuttle…will they be able to disarm it in time? And what's Luke been up to on his way to Coruscant? Also, Han is still fixing the Falcon. Stay tuned!!

End notes: Whew! This chapter felt more natural for me to write…I really enjoy the Anakin/Leia dynamic, and wanted to imagine what it would have been like for them to speak to each other about their past. True, Leia was a little violent, but…please review and tell me what you thought of it!!

VFSNAKE: Haha! Great idea! But I'm sure Anakin will get even with Han one day, when Han learns the truth about who he's been talking to…

hurotias: True…technically, of course Anakin should have been able to feel Leia sneak aboard the ship. Still, I feel that Leia was so bent on revenge and anger that she focused her power into remaining undetected. And if that explanation seems kinda eh…I now implement special fanfiction law #43…anything that happens in a fanfic will receive a shoddy but plausible explanation! Just kidding…

Vicster200: Thank you! And yes, you guessed right…I mean, who else would it have been?

mlhkvh5: You know, when you suggested that it might be Mara Jade sneaking aboard Anakin's ship, I actually considered changing it from Leia to Mara…I mean, having Mara confront Anakin would actually be quite interesting! I couldn't figure out what to do with the story from there, though, so I had to scrap it. Interesting suggestion though, thanks again!

Alien Roxi: Yup, I was one of the lucky ones! I was excited the whole year before, haha…hope to see you back soon, thanks again!

The SummoningDark: Yup, it's our little Leia! And thanks…I was worried that I was making Luke too much of a softie compared to Anakin…

JadedofMara: Thanks so much!

Jedi X-Man Serena Kenobi: Thank you, more updates are on their way!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Thanks so much! And yeah…POOR ANAKIN! He sure got his punishment…

Cyranothe2nd: Yeah, I have to admit…it's really not a good thing that Luke is lying to Leia. Still…if he told her about Anakin, then she would surely turn them in to the Alliance. And that would be really bad…but in the end, Leia found out anyway XD

ILDV: Hehe…I really wanted to show a brief scene where Anakin and Luke connect as father and son. And yeah, I love Artoo! I got to pose with an Artoo at Celebration IV, while I was dressed as Princess Leia…Artoo's so cute! Thanks again!

Sentrosi: Thanks so much! Hope the next chapter is just as good too!

Please help me make this story amazing…please review and leave some comments and constructive criticism for me!!


	7. Vanguard

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Note: By the way…Coco Town IS an actual district of Coruscant….it's the area Dex's Diner is located in, and it stands for "Collective Commerce District". Just wanted to point that out, since the name sounds really funky in a fanfic…

Ameliora

Chapter 7: Vanguard

by ArchFaith

"That's going to be three thousand credits a day."

"Three thousand a day? You're kidding me, right? I could buy the parts to fix my Arfour unit with that much—"

"Take it or leave it," the guard said, without hesitation. "You can take your chances and get something cheaper, but I'm warning you…this here is the safest hangar in Coco Town. Pay up or risk getting your fancy little X-wing stolen."

Luke sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Fine, fine," he whispered, taking a couple of credit chips out of the small pack slung over his shoulders. He handed the money to the guard, who scanned the chips through a data pad he held in his hand. "Well, it all checks out," he said, satisfied. "Your ship is safe here with us."

"Is it?" Luke asked, his eyes narrowing as he eyed his X-wing. It was parked behind them, nestled near a seedy-looking spice freighter whose occupants seemed to have abandoned it long before.

"We have a reputation to keep up," the guard insisted, patting his blaster fondly against his chest. "Our boss runs an honest business here…he knows what'll happen if he started neglecting our customers' prized ships."

_He knows Coruscant's underworld would be on his back in a second, _Luke thought grimly to himself. He sighed, and slung the pack over his shoulders once again. "I'll be back later to pay up the rest," he said, as the guard flashed him a satisfied grin.

"How long you keeping your ship here, Rebel?"

"As long as my business keeps me here," Luke answered, his voice sour and irritated. He turned to the small, red-plated droid that was standing patiently next to him. "C'mon, Arfour."

The droid whistled in a low tone, and rolled up behind him as Luke began to walk away from the ship lot.

Coruscant—the center of the galaxy. Of the universe, perhaps…it was impossible to determine the depth and scope of the most powerful planet in the galaxy. Covered entirely by buildings and skyscrapers, all of which was built upon miles and miles of older structures, it was truly its own little universe. On the top, the rich and powerful old families enjoyed their lives of luxury and privilege; sipping cold Algarine wine atop their cloud-covered suites, indulging in pointless activities such as water operas and skysports.

It was the lower cities that teemed with life; like a gigantic fishbowl, its lowly denizens milled about, trying to survive day by day. The middle class officials lived well enough; they had comfortable homes with a few servants, and enjoyed some degree of happiness amidst the sprawl. The workers, too, led fairly good lives; as long as one fulfilled their positions in society, life could be good on Coruscant.

Then again, life on Coruscant could be…not so good.

The sentiment persisted in Luke's mind as he and the small droid headed the down narrow alleyway which led away from the hangar. Three-quarters of the way to Coruscant, Arfour had short-circuited a few important fuses and wires; they had been able to reach Coruscant safely, but Luke was wary of using his X-wing with a partially-functioning droid on board. No matter, he reasoned; they were bound to be on Coruscant for a few weeks anyway. Although it would cost him a small fortune to keep his X-wing in the Coco Town Hangar, it was no small problem. As long as Anakin was safe and kept away form the Alliance, they could worry about secondary concerns later.

The street Luke now found himself walking on was dark; though the sky far above his head swirled with grayish clouds, they were so far below the mammoth skyscrapers that it might as well have been early evening. Coco Town had declined in recent years; it had been partially swallowed up by the undercity. Even the exterior world looked worn and neglected. Trash littered the floor; people walked quickly, their eyes turned to the grimy sidewalks. Even though the Empire had been defeated, this maze of unknown faces and forgotten names would still thrive and prevail.

It would most probably be a while before Anakin arrived on Coruscant; a day or two, Luke calculated. Well, he had time to spare. _I might as well find a place to stay…_

He frowned as he felt the uncomfortable, empty feeling well up in his stomach_. And get something to eat, _he added. He had not brought much in terms of food rations aboard the X-wing's miniscule cargo hold.

He gently patted the damaged droid's metal dome; the droid responded with a whistle. "Let's stop in somewhere," Luke suggested, looking down at the small robot. "I need some refueling too."

He looked around; the establishments around the area seemed questionable, and he had to be wary of any poisons their patrons might slip into the food. Like the legendary Mos Eisley Cantina, one never knew what exactly they were eating…

Looking around, he saw that he was, in fact, standing in front of a shabby-looking eatery of some kind. It had clearly seen better days; the metal signpost hanging from the wall was half-eaten away by what looked like blaster shots, and the bright red chrome on the sides had faded away to a dull maroon. The windows were shuttered and dirty, yet the ancient sign on the front door read OPEN.

Luke shrugged. "Might as well," he said, half to himself, half to the droid. He hadn't had a drink in a very long time anyway.

-

"Hello there! Take a seat, any seat ya like," the small droid said, rolling to Luke and Arfour as soon as they entered the diner. It was a small, feminine robot; she held a plate of half-eaten food in one hand, and a pitcher of what seemed like a hot beverage in the other. "Welcome to Dex's Diner!"

The place was…neglected, to say the least. Though the floor had once been brightly checkered, specks of dirt and grime now bulged through the faded red and white tiles; a small bar at one side of the diner was completely bare, save for a small plate of muffins that looked like they had been left out for years. There were a few other people in the diner, all eating what appeared to be semi-palatable food. Well…Anakin did tell him to lie low on Coruscant. Luke supposed that this was what he meant.

Luke cocked his head at her enthusiastic greeting. "Thanks," he said, gesturing towards Arfour. He quietly set himself down at a booth near the doorway; the waitress droid skated away on her wheeled leg, almost splashing the hot drink on the floor as she swerved to avoid a rather plump Wookie who had just risen from his seat. "Hey, watch it!" she called out, in an unbelievably high-pitched tone. "Dex, no rest for you today! Somebody just came in, so fire up the stove and get ready!"

From behind the counter of the bar, a large, heavy-set Besalisk alien emerged from behind a swinging metal door. Scowling, he looked towards the waitress droid as he crossed two of his four arms over his chest, which was covered by a stained white shirt. "Dubya-Ay, I thought I told you to close up shop fer today! Hermione ain't feelin' well, and neither am I. No more customers!"

The young Jedi heaved a quick sigh. He could never catch a break, and the last thing he wanted to do was call attention to himself. "If it's that much trouble, we'll leave," Luke answered, rising from his recently claimed seat. Arfour, clearly annoyed at being asked to leave, let out a few rude beeps.

The Besalisk glanced over at Luke for one moment, then turned to give the waitress another scolding. In an instant, however, he had turned back around, and was now staring at Luke with large, beady eyes; scratching his crested, reptilian head, he tilted his head to the side in some of kind of obscure recognition. "Well, I'll be…" he began, crossing the bar to lean over the counter. "If it isn't…" The Besalisk quickly stopped himself; blinking, he threw a glance over at the waitress droid. "Well, don't just stand there, Dubya-Ay! Get him a cup of Ardees or something."

Confused, the droid rolled off in an irritated huff as the Besalisk smiled and gestured to the counter. "Pardon my rudeness, stranger," he said, in a gruff but friendly voice. "Come over here and have a seat at the bar."

Luke set a frown upon his face. "Change of heart?" he asked incredulously, putting a hand on his hip. He was confused by the alien's sudden decision; what was going on here?

The Besalisk tilted his head to the side, his face taking an almost wistful countenance. "I'm just an old man here," he began, "but for one small moment, I almost thought you was someone else."

"Really? Who?" Luke asked, drawing closer to the counter. He himself was now curious; well, he supposed, it didn't hurt to investigate the alien's claim. Besides, he had his blaster in case things got ugly…

"Eh, just a kid I used to know," the alien answered, his voice nostalgic. "Old friend of mine—a Jedi, if you can believe it—he had a whiny little Padawan he used to bring with him when he came down ta visit me. Name was Ani, I believe…somethin' like that. You look a lot like him."

Luke raised an eyebrow. _Oh, this is too just good to be true. _"What was the Jedi's name?"

"Old Obi-Wan!" the alien bellowed, letting out a great chuckle. "Him and that Ani

boy…they raised the galaxy with all their nonsense." Smiling, he extended one of his large appendages towards Luke. "Name's Dexter Jettster…Dex for short. This old place has been around since before the Empire…and now I guess it's around after it."

Luke grinned, more in complete surprise than anything else; he took Dex's hand, and gave it a firm shake. _So this is where Obi-Wan used to hang out in his spare time…_ He chuckled to himself. So Anakin had been known as a complainer as well, when he was younger; perhaps they had both inherited the annoying restlessness which seemed to irritate so many people.

"Well then, stranger, what can I get you? Tell ya what, since you remind me of young Ani way back when, I'll give ya a discount!" Dex roared, laughing in his own mirth. "We have all kinds of—"

"Dex!" A sudden yell penetrated the semi-noisy atmosphere of the diner as the door was flung open by a small, winged Toydarian. Short in stature, the flying alien rocketed towards the counter, alighting on the table with an unceremonious stamp of his feet. "I've vaited longk enough! Vhere's my money? Ve hed an agreement, you zcoundrel!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Dex replied, putting his hands up in defense. "Will ya calm down? I've got customers in here, you know…"

"I vill not!" the Toydarian answered, shaking his little face in anger. His long, piglike snout hung limply in front of his mouth; his small insect-like wings beat faster and faster as he once again took off into the air, buzzing around Dex's head like a mosquito. "I jus got a no-good shipment of stuff off some stupid little azteroids…nothin' but old medicine, some rusty tools and zome deadbeat stuck in carbonite! I vas tricked! They told me it vould be vorth somethingk, but it'z all junk! I need my money right now!"

"I told you I'd pay you next week, old geezer!" Dex replied, swatting at the Toydarian as one might swat a fly off a piece of food. "Learn to be a little more understanding!"

"I've hed it vith you!" the Toydarian bellowed, evading Dex's four arms with expert ease. "Either you pay up by tomorrow, or I canzel your loan!" With a final insulting gesture, the Toydarian took a nosedive off the counter and zipped out the doorway, leaving a trail of dust and grime in his path.

The whole diner had stopped; the patrons, it seemed, has discontinued their meals and were now staring at Dex, whose face had grown a pale shade of pink. "Get back to yer meals, folks! Show's over!" he said, smiling weakly.

After a few seconds of indecision, the diners returned to their plates; Dex breathed a sigh of irritation, and shook his reptilian head as he propped himself up on the counter. "That's Watto," he whispered in a low voice. "Thinks he's a bigshot 'cause he owned he used ta own some little shop on Tatooine. Tatooine! That little heap of rock!"

Luke had been listening in to the argument with some interest; he had not even noticed the cup of Ardees that the waitress droid had placed in front of him only a few seconds before, nor that Dex had just succeeded in insulting his home planet. Watto, a Toydarian…a former merchant from Tatooine…could it be Anakin's…?

Quickly catching himself, he reached a hand out and slowly grasped the small plastic cup on the counter. "He's a moneylender?" he asked casually, propping his head up on the table in a composed way.

"Yeah," Dex answered, grimacing. "He lends money, he owns the Coco Hangar…and he also sells spare parts on the side. Made a bad deal about a month ago…bought a heap of old goods off some little asteroids called Polis Massa. He thought they'd be collectibles or somethin', but I guess the rumors are true…it's all worthless junk."

Luke knit his eyebrows. In a strange way, he felt like separate pieces of a puzzle were slowly beginning to emerge from his mind. It could not be just a coincidence; walking into Dex's Diner, being told that he resembled Anakin…and now, a Toydarian merchant had shown up demanding money. There had to be some connection between all this confusion; inwardly, Luke took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Stretching out through the Force, he tried to imagine his next move. Would he let the entire thing go? Perhaps it was just a coincidence after all; he felt gears moving within his mind, but they did not seem to belong to one single mechanism. Perhaps he was placing things together that held no meaning at all; he had witnessed a simple business quarrel, and nothing more than that. But the name of the asteroid settlement—Polis Massa—had sounded a chime within him. Though he could not recall ever having heard the name before, it held an eerie significance for him; and try as he would to shake it, it remained a nagging piece of information in his mind.

"You said Watto owns Coco Hangar?" he asked, gulping the Ardees with just a hint of determination.

-

"Thermal detonators?!"

Leia's frantic question was met by Anakin's serious eyes. "Antilles told me they cleaned them all out, but…"

Leia shook her head incredulously. "Artoo," she called, turning to the small droid, "how did you know about this?"

Artoo responded with a series of beeps and whistles that seemed like a cacophony of confusion and excitement. He had not seen Leia on board the ship earlier, and was now extremely perplexed as to what she was doing there. Adding to his dismay were Anakin's blaster wounds; whatever had transpired while he was asleep, it had been quite interesting. Artoo quickly resolved not to rest for a long time afterwards.

"It doesn't matter," Anakin answered, his eyes narrowing. "We have to find it and disarm it."

Leia nodded; as much as she would have liked to know more about her mother—as close as she was to receiving answers she had waited a whole lifetime to get—it would all be for nothing if they didn't survive. In a flash all three of them had emerged onto the corridor of the ship. Artoo beeped, and skittered down the hallway in a dash to the cargo hold; Anakin and Leia followed, their hearts frantic as they entered the dimly-lit chamber.

Leia hurriedly flipped on a lightswitch as Anakin bounded into the room, his blonde hair growing tousled as he quickly pushed aside the empty crates that stood in the corner of the small room. In a moment he discovered it; beneath a stack of boxes, pressed neatly against the metal floor. A tiny slab of metal, betrayed only by a few wires sticking out of its end. A timer was built into the small mechanism; it was quickly counting down, and the number on the clock did not seem at all encouraging.

"We have ten minutes," Anakin said breathlessly as Leia knelt down beside him. He gingerly picked the device up, holding it up into the fluorescent light of the cargo hold as Artoo rolled up behind them.

"You think you know how to take it apart?" Leia asked, absently placing her hands over her heart as Anakin continued to hold the device up to the light.

"Possibly…I used to fool around with these things when I was younger," he answered, slowly tapping open the metal covering of the device. The two pieces of metal clattered to the floor; now exposed, the detonator revealed its true nature. It was little more than dozens of small wires wrapped around a microscopic vial of explosive solution; with one wrong move, they could trigger a chain reaction…

Anakin shook his head in frustration. "This one's different…more complex than the ones in the Outer Rim." He quickly turned to Leia; knowing that they did not have a moment to lose, he pressed it into her hand. "It's from your organization, Princess. You should know how to do this."

With a labored sigh, Leia looked down at the beating device in her hands. The timer now read seven minutes; seven, tiny, insignificant minutes. Would this be the end, then? To die aboard a transport shuttle after having survived so many battles both in space and on the ground? Would she die without seeing Han or Luke…without having heard more from Anakin about her dear mother?

Pushing the thoughts out of her head, she gently examined the device in her lap. "I studied these before I went to Jabba's palace," she reflected out loud. "I've handled them before…this one's a newer version, a bit different." She had no time to think about consequences; quickly, she reached and snapped off a yellow wire within the device. _Got it right, _she thought triumphantly. _The first one's always easy…now for the rest of them…_

Time was passing far more quickly than either of them could imagine; as soon as Leia had snapped off the fourth correct wire, the timer's numbers turned a cold red color. Two minutes remaining…two minutes…

_The grey wire_, she thought to herself as Anakin looked on intently. She quickly snapped it, and the detonator flashed an electric color. "It's almost disarmed," she whispered, scouring the device once more. "One more wire."

Two more wires remained…one orange, one green. _The Maker help us, _she thought, flipping the detonator over in her hands. "I don't know which one…."

"Choose one," Anakin urged, putting a hand on her arm in spite of her clear aversion towards contact. "It won't matter in the end."

"I can't," she replied, her eyes widening as she realized the full extent of the horror that was about to be unleashed upon them. "I think I've disarmed it to the point that the explosion won't be as powerful as its full force would have been…"

Ninety seconds. "Just disarm it, Leia," he urged again, putting a hand on her shoulder. Behind him, Artoo beeped with a frenzied fear.

She shook her head. "No…we stand a better chance if we just leave it as is. It'll explode, but we'll have a better chance of survival…more than if I just randomly chose now." Feeling extremely like Threepio, with all his various calculations of odds and statistics, she quickly shut her mind to any doubt as to her decision.

Sixty seconds. Leia gently placed the detonator against the floor of the hold.

Seeing that Leia was not going to budge on her decision, Anakin briefly contemplated just snapping one wire himself to complete the deed; however, they had a fifty percent chance of survival if he went ahead with his plan. Still…as Leia said, the explosion would not be as powerful as if the detonator were fully wired. The ship, of course, would be greatly damaged, but there existed a more passable chance of survival if they took their chances…

_No more time to think. _Anakin quickly rose, pulling Leia up with him. "Get to the cockpit, Artoo!" he yelled, absently placing his hand on Leia's back on a gesture of comfort.

Though he had good intentions, Leia did not see eye to eye; holding back contemptuous words, she allowed him to escort her into the cockpit, where Artoo had already parked himself into a corner near the control panel. Beeping excitedly, he turned his metal head as the two entered the room.

"Under the dashboard," Anakin whispered, his voice tight as he looked back to the cargo hold. He could almost see the timer in his mind; thirty seconds…twenty-nine…

Leia knelt, and scampered under the heavy metal slab; she eased herself into a sitting position, pushing her head against a few strings of loose wires as she cradled her legs with her arms. In a second, Anakin settled in close next to her.

_Nineteen…eighteen…_

_Come here, _he commanded gently, wrapping both his arms around Leia. Surprised as she was, Leia did not pull away from his embrace; she was too terrified, too frozen to do anything else than wait for the inevitable flash of the detonator. She briefly reflected on the present situation; she was allowing _Darth Vader_ to embrace her. Incredible…but she would not push him away. If they were to die, then she would try her best to make it an honorable death, free from hatred or regret.

_Eight…seven…_

Anakin seemed to sense Leia's brief change of heart; he felt a certain indecisive feeling, as though she did not want him to embrace her, but could think of no reason to tell him to back away. Breathing heavily, Anakin laid his blonde head against Leia's quivering brown strands. In a quick second she automatically placed both her arms around him, and both went through the momentary shock of their first embrace as father and daughter. It was not at all a harsh feeling, either; rather, in the few seconds before their lives might end, it was extremely comforting and warm. Leia shook her head, burying her head against Anakin's shoulder as his chest heaved in grim anticipation.

_I'm sorry it had to end this way._

He smoothed her wavy strands back against her hair as the sounds of the explosion began to rip through the craft.

_Me too._

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Hey, don't leave! This ain't over yet!! Luke chases after that rascally old Watto, as the detonator explodes aboard Leia and Anakin's shuttle! What happens next? Also, what happened to Threepio, I mean, did he even care that everyone left him in the dark about pretty much everything?! Stay tuned!!

End notes: I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Looking back on it, I hope it wasn't too confusing…I was thinking the part with Dex's Diner might be confusing to some, but I re-wrote it to ensure maximum understanding (I hope). In any case, this story is really taking on a life of its own; its storyline is a lot different than what I originally imagined for it! But I'm glad…I like when stories write themselves! And yes, I'm open to suggestions…tell me what you'd like to see! Also, tell me what you liked and didn't like about this chapter, I want to know! I know there lots of lurkers out there, but come out of lurkage to give me feedback!!

VFSNAKE: My goodness! You're a Leia hater! I'm in conflict over this, since Luke and Leia are my favorite characters. I understand that you think Leia just has a really narrow mind and a bad temper, but you also have to understand…Luke was able to get some closure from Vader/Anakin. Even though they fought on different sides until the end, Luke at least knew that Vader had some kind of feelings towards him and that he really didn't want to kill him. Leia never got to speak to Anakin like that…all she's left with is this image of a dark monster (who injected truth serum into her and tortured her!) In the end, yes, Leia is kind of narrow-minded when it comes to Ani, but…she did name her third child after him! Hope this doesn't distract you from reading my story, however…

DarthQ: Yup, I just like to think that Leia was just so upset that she channeled her anger into a protective Force shield from Anakin…thank you!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Hehe thank you! And that is, if Anakin and Leia ever do show up to Coruscant…

Jedi Master Arie Skywalker: Thanks! It's got to know I wrote them correctly!

TheSummoningDark: Yeah, Leia's a firecracker here. She inherited Anakin's traits too well…Luke got his whinyness, and Leia got his temper! Thank you!

elven-cat2: Thanks for your multiple reviews of each chapter! I'm really glad you're enjoying my fic…I worked really hard on it! As for your question about Vader blocking laser bolts…well, I had Anakin get hurt by Leia's blaster for two reasons. The first is that I wanted to show that Leia really did mean business; in a lot of fics Leia seems quite vulnerable. Though she is better with words than with weapons (at this point in canon, anyway), I wanted to show everyone that Leia had been doing some sneaking around of her own. Also, the second reason Anakin was hurt by Leia is because he totally wasn't expecting anyone to surprise him like that. Also, since he didn't want to hurt her, he was not going to retaliate in any way (until he grabbed her blaster, that is…)

ILDV: Haha thank you for your awesome suggestion! It's a great idea, but I already have the basic plot of the story outlined…good to know you're enjoying my story though. There are literally millions of places this could have gone…And I hope this update came soon enough for you!!

Sentrosi: P Thanks!!


	8. Disorientation

Note: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 8: Disorientation

by ArchFaith

For one moment, all she could were Artoo's frenzied warnings, coupled with her father's nervous breaths near her ear. All she felt was Anakin's tight embrace, and the sharp coldness of the wires pushed against her head. Pressing her face into Anakin's shoulder, she momentarily opened one eye, looking out at the cockpit from their hiding place underneath the control panel.

Then there was the explosion.

It was deafening, ripping through the ship's innards as though the craft were made of straw; in one second the red blaze had engulfed the entire back part of the ship, producing a bellowing red inferno which spilled into the hallway, racing towards the end of the corridor towards the cockpit.

Anakin narrowed his eyes in frustration, and absently squeezed Leia's arm as the fire roared through the ship. _It can't end this way, _he thought to himself, allowing Leia to feel his angry sentiments. _It's not over yet…_

At once, a screeching sound issued from under the ship; no doubt the hyperdrive engines, and the regular engines themselves, were now being devoured by the explosion. Mercifully, the flames had only reached up to the doorway of the cockpit; yet now the explosion had started its full course. The engines groaned beneath them, and a crumpling noise was heard from below, followed by a few smaller explosions which rocked the cockpit to and fro at sharp angles. Anakin and Leia, squeezed into the corner under the dashboard, were quite spared from the tumult; Artoo, however, found himself sliding forward, and lost his balance as the craft swung down in a diagonal position.

"Artoo!" Leia cried, reaching out for the droid; she quickly pulled away from Anakin, and grabbed one of the droid's stubby legs as it lurched forward, letting out a terrified beep as it crashed to the floor. "Get over here!" she commanded, pulling the droid under the control panel. Anakin grabbed his other leg, and Artoo was soon secured under the dashboard with them.

By now, the detonator had carried out its deeds; the entire back half of the ship was engulfed in orange flames, and the hot metal was slowly twisting off the ship, sending pieces of debris out into space. Still, the cockpit remained; though most of the controls were now useless, at least they were still alive.

But the engines below them; how did they fare? Father and daughter soon received their answer—with a sudden jump forwards, a screeching rip sounded from underneath the vessel. At that moment, the craft suddenly took a nosedive downwards; all three passengers were flung against the underside of the dashboard, their bodies grinding down into the metal as the craft began gaining speed. The engines had come off the craft entirely; now, with nothing to propel it through space, it was now hurtling towards nothingness. But they had to be nearby a planet, then; gravity seemed to be pulling the ship downwards. It had most likely entered a planet's atmosphere; like a stray meteoroid, it was now heading down towards the planet's surface.

Leia groaned in pain; the wires beneath her were now hot, and sparked with stray electricity as their power generators quickly shut off. Anakin reached over to her; summoning his strength, he plucked the wires out of their sockets as Leia writhed above them. He tossed them to the side, gasping as the hot wires scorched his fingers; Leia looked over to him, breathing heavily as thankful tears slowly trailed down her cheek. Artoo, powerless in his horizontal position, whistled sadly.

It was the end.

-

_"There is still good in him…I can feel it, Obi-Wan!"_

_The gentle knight took the woman's hand in his; smoothing her wet forehead, he frowned as he looked down at her. "Rest, Padmé…you must rest."_

_The woman shook her head, her cheeks wet with tears as she brought a tired hand down to her stomach. "Take care of them," she whispered, in a low voice. "I…I cannot die. They need me. He needs me."_

_"We all need you, Padmé," the Jedi whispered, bending down to kiss her trembling forehead. "Rest. When you wake, it will be a far better time."_

-

He did not know how long he lay there, partially buried by the remnants of the control panel, embedding his lower body into the debris below. He could feel the pain creeping up his legs, feel the warm blood against his forehead as he stretched out against the cold ground. As soon as he had received his youthful w body it had been injured once again—some luck.

_Sorry I couldn't make it, Luke…_

Darkness…silence. The craft had been shattered into bits on impact with the planet's surface; now all that remained was smoke billowing out of the ship's tail, and pieces of metal that littered the cold, snow-covered ground onto which they had crashed.

Complete and total destruction.

Almost complete.

"Vader?" a small, uneasy voice whispered next to him. The Jedi slowly raised his head at the sound of his former alias; his blonde hair was plastered against his face, and he could do little more than move his arm slightly in the direction of the call.

"Princess?" he answered, wondering if Leia had been aware he had called her by her name during the crisis aboard the shuttle. In a moment he heard the sounds of metal pieces scraping against each other; looking up, he saw Leia emerge from the heap of rubble, kicking a scrap of roasted metal to the side as she struggled to stand.

Her hair streamed wildly around her face, blown about by the harsh winds of the icy plain; her black clothes were ripped and torn, and pieces of seared flesh could be seen beneath the dark fabric. Panting, she stood, holding a hand to her bruised side; looking towards Anakin, she limped over to him, and quickly sunk down onto the ground next to him.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking at her from his place on the floor.

"Alive," she answered, narrowing her eyes as the pain from her wounds bore slowly into her system. Forcing herself to focus, she turned her attention to Anakin. "Can you lift this thing?"

"Yeah," came his simple answer. With an effort, he took his mind off his injuries and quickly searched around for the strength within. The Force was a hard thing to reach out to, especially when one was in great pain; he managed to find a center of balance, and calmed himself as he focused on his task. He shoved his hands in front of him, his fingers grasping at the air as he imagined himself lifting the broken metal off his body.

The piece of broken panel flew off his legs; he slowly sat up, and stretched his legs out in front of him as he felt the clotted blood gathering against his thigh. Leia crouched down next to him, frowning as she placed a cautious hand against his shoulder. She could not afford to be pompous or closed to him now; as they found themselves in a dangerous predicament, it was imperative that they cooperate together. At least, this was what she told herself. No; none of her concern towards Anakin was directed towards the fact that he was her father. It was for Luke; Luke had endangered his own life to save Anakin from death. It was just as well for her own information; Anakin was her key to learning more about Padmé, perhaps the only way she would know more about her real mother.

This was what she told herself.

Anakin looked up at her, sighing as he placed a hand against his wounded leg. "What about you?" he asked her. "Are you feeling alright?"

She nodded. "Yes…I can walk, at least." She took her eyes off him for a brief moment, looking down at the scattered debris that had once been the small shuttle. "Artoo?" she asked, with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

A low whistle sounded out from below them; in a few seconds, the small droid had emerged from beneath the pile of metal, with a cacophony of whistles and beeps. Rather exciting, the droid thought, within its metal innards. Quite frightening, but exciting nonetheless…

Leia shook her head as Anakin smiled weakly. "Good old Artoo," he whispered, "always managing to come through."

"What do you mean, 'always?'" Leia asked, frowning. "You speak as if you've known Artoo from before."

"I have," he answered. "From back when he was a maintenance droid on your mother's ship."

Leia's eyes widened in surprise. She was about to ask another question when she stopped herself; now, in the few moments after they had awakened from an incredible aerial explosion, was not the time to ask Anakin to reminisce. She slowly stood up, testing her legs as she balanced against the low pile of scorched parts Anakin had been trapped under. Upon waking, the only things she had noticed about her immediate surroundings was that the ground was cold; soft snow had helped to cushion her fall. She had thought nothing of it in the scramble to check on Anakin and Artoo, but now, as she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the dim sun above, the true extent of their wayward course was realized.

A troubled sigh escaped her as Anakin rose, surveying the landscape as she peered around. There was no mistaking it—snow-covered plains as far as the eye could see, flat and dull as the grayish sky above. Distant hills hovered in the distance, capped by small scratches of black rock here and there; the sun was high overheard, shrouded in heavy clouds. The only signs of civilization appeared to be their own, broken vessel; not even a stray sign of wildlife was present.

The cold temperatures had not hit their systems right away; but now, as they turned their attentions from their minor injuries to the condition of the environment around them, the sudden dip in temperature became apparent. As they spoke, they could see their breath materializing in the air; each small movement caused a new ache within their muscles, and the relatively thin layers of clothing they wore did nothing to deter the frost that was beginning to gather on their clothes.

"Hoth?" Anakin guessed, taking note of a string of small hills in the distance.

"From the looks of it," Leia answered. "Could be any snow-covered region of a planet, though…we can't even tell where we are."

Turning to Artoo, she quickly went to the small droid and gave him a gentle pat on the dome. "Artoo, maximize your scanning sensors and try to detect any sign of lifeforms on this planet. Be sure to note which direction too." Artoo whistled affirmatively.

Anakin crossed behind her, still surveying the wreckage of the craft. "Doesn't look like everything is gone," he noted, his eyes settling on a cracked box that had come to rest a few feet away from the remains of a door panel. He crossed over to it, and slid the box's panel open. "Just what we need," he said, holding up a few packets of food rations.

Upon closer examination, it seemed that the Maker had indeed been keeping an eye on them; though the cargo hold and one of the spare supply rooms had been ripped off the shuttle, a smaller supply room had survived the blast. Though the contents were partially scorched, most of it was salvageable—large, army-sized packs equipped for long-distance walking, bacta ointments which were quickly utilized for treating their blast wounds, packets of food rations and hydration pills, and some clean pairs of clothes. And most importantly, a supply of cold-weather clothing; thick, fur-lined parkas which had been built to withstand even the most harsh of snowy weather.

Leia gratefully slipped the white overcoat around her shoulders; briefly, she reflected back on the time when she had been stationed on Echo Base, looking after the fledgling command post as the Rebels tried to establish themselves on the planet. It had not taken the Empire long to find them, to seek them out and destroy them. So many lost at the Battle of Hoth…at the Battles of Yavin and Endor, and countless others throughout the years. Vader had commanded so many to their deaths…the same man who stood before her, who had cradled her as the impact of the explosion hit them only a few minutes before…she felt almost traitorous as she gathered the scant supplies, tucking them into the large pack on the ground before her. Yet…Luke had indeed seen the good in him. And truly…in their first embrace, she suddenly felt as though she could see it as well…

"Luke didn't doubt, as you do," Anakin said suddenly, surprising her out of her reverie. He was kneeling down next to Artoo, as a small piece of paper neatly shot out of a slot in the back. As he bent down to retrieve it, Leia frowned and walked up to him. Anakin had been tuning in to her own thoughts once again…she had learned to close her mind to both Luke and to Anakin, but she had no been paying particular attention at the moment.

"My brother is more of an optimist," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest as Anakin straightened out. "I simply want to see every side of a situation."

He smiled grimly. "Perhaps that's where you and I resemble each other," he said as he read the freshly printed words on Artoo's message. "He says he scanned a five mile-wide radius and found no sentient lifeforms," he read out loud. Shaking his head, he briefly wondered if this was the time when he would finally see the end of his days.

Leia creased her eyebrows as she turned back to half-empty pack. "We have to get moving, then," she began, tucking a few more pieces of clothing into the bag. "The sun's a bit lower in the sky…I'd say it's mid-afternoon. We don't want to be out when it gets dark."

Anakin nodded, and settled down next to her against the cold ground. In a few minutes they had packed all the supplies they could possibly carry; making sure to include other necessities such as light flares and micro-lanterns. In a few minutes they were ready to get moving; parkas zipped tightly around their bodies, fur-lined hoods against their wild hair, the packs were quickly slipped onto their shoulders. Almost ready…save for—

"What about these?" Anakin asked, gently kicking the butt of the long blaster Leia had brought aboard the ship. He bent down and picked it up. "I believe this is yours, Princess," he said, handing it to her.

A light blush fell upon Leia's face as the long blaster was pressed into her arms. Anakin was handing her the very same blaster she had used to inflict damage upon him…she took the blaster without comment, and quickly tucked it into the holster set against her belt. Anakin retrieved his own, smaller blaster and similarly stored it beneath his parka.

"Well, let's get going," he said, with a light sigh. Leia advanced towards him, as Artoo whistled and quickly filed in next to them. "So much for meeting up with Luke, huh?"

Leia frowned as she joined Anakin, walking close to him as she scanned the horizon. "So much."

-

A heavy door was thrown open, shedding light onto the various dusty objects that littered the large room. The room stretched as far as the eye could see; it was a former warehouse, converted into a storage room by its present owner. The walls were piled high with various antiques ranging from different eras of the galaxy; everything from centuries-old ship parts to rare and valuable stolen goods could be located amidst the mountains of junk that had been piled up over the years. In some places, the pile-up reached as high as the ceiling itself; scraping the ceiling windows of the huge room, the objects almost sparkled in their coats of dust and grime.

The Toydarian entered the room first; his fat belly shook as he hovered a few feet off the ground. Rubbing his hands in anticipation, he motioned for his guest to follow him inside. "Come in, come in," he urged. "My new shipment iz right over he-ere."

Luke stepped into the room, immediately taking notice of the damp, moldy smell that overcame in as he stepped amidst the old books and broken lamps set against the floor. He narrowed his eyes, looking around as Watto gave him a devious grin.

"You certainly take pride in your work," he said, looking up at the towering columns of junk that seemed to bear down upon them like small skyscrapers against the dirty floor.

"Vell, vell," Watto answered, waving his hand dismissively. "I used to own a much zmaller shop than thiz back on Tatooine. I went into retirement a few yearz ago, but the life of a merchant called me back…now here I am on Coruzcant! I tell you, my boy…you can really go far in life…eef you work hard."

Luke nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. It would be quite interesting to see what Watto's reaction would be if he discovered that Luke was Anakin's son…quite. However, as it was, he was trying to lie as low as possible, and divulging unnecessary information was quite out of the question. He was already taking a foolhardy risk—just what exactly had brought him out to Watto's storehouse, anyway? Some third-hand hint about a place he wasn't even sure he knew anything about?

"Thanks for your advice," he said simply. "Now just where were these goods you were talking about?"

"Right over here!" Watto called, flying forwards towards what seemed like another corridor filled with rusted, useless items. He motioned for Luke to follow him, and the young Jedi stepped over several broken pieces of furniture as Watto skimmed along the sides of the wall.

"Amazing that you heard about my sheepment!" the Toydarian cried, chuckling to himself. "You're a collector, I zee?"

"I buy things when it pleases me," Luke answered, taking on a haughty tone of voice. If Leia had taught him anything about diplomacy and relations, his most treasured lesson was to conceal one's true intentions—and to establish an air of confidence and firmness to whomever one dealt with.

Watto nodded, his head bobbing back and forth in the air as he pulled his vest tighter over his belly. "Hehe," he chuckled again. "Vell, I'm sure you'll find zat my shop hes many interesting things from throughout de galaxy…exotic, beautiful merchandise from all corners of the universe!" He twirled around, looking back at Luke he spoke. "Are you looking for anytheeng in particular?"

Luke dismissively shook his head. "I enjoy collecting artifacts from the Polis Massa settlement," he began. "I was quite excited when I heard you had some antiques."

"Yes, yes," Watto said, humoring him. "Vell, here zhey are!" He pointed a stubby hand towards the end of the corridor, where another massive pile of junk lay scattered about. "Take a look!"

Luke stepped forward, eyeing the pile as his boots made crunching noises against the dirty floor. Dex had been right in his assessment of Watto's new shipment—it was a pile of useless junk. Packets of different kinds of medicines, all in expired jars and cylinders, lay smashed against the floor; dirty needles, packed in transparent garbage capsules, were propped up against the grimy walls. Medical tables missing their legs and electronic additions, malfunctioning light tubes, severely damaged medical droids…there was not an item of worth in the whole stock, which would have filled up the entire back room on the Falcon.

Still, Luke could not betray his disgust at the whole ordeal. He had come to Watto's junk store for a reason, and he might as well have a look around while he was there. Stepping over a jar of expired pills, he pushed aside an old plastic curtain and looked over the wares. "Interesting stuff you have here," he remarked, holding up a rusted droid's padded armpiece.

"Yes, it'z amazing!" Watto answered, flying over to him. "Dis droid here…built for birthing babies!" he exclaimed, looking at the arm Luke held in his hands. "Most of these goods are from de medical facility on ze main azteroid on Polis Massa…medical antiques are much in demand now, you know!"

"Yes, I know," Luke answered. Though he knew next to nothing about the current trends of antique shopping, he did know enough to reason that no sane person would want to pay even a hundredth of a credit for the junk Watto had shipped in. Sighing, he was about to turn when a sudden glint caught his eye; beneath the spare droid parts, a shiny substance let out a dull gleam against the dim light of the room.

A sudden impulse took hold of him; though he did know what it was, or what compelled him back towards the junk heap, he acted upon it. With one swift shove of his hand, he scattered the bits and pieces of junk surrounding the shiny gleam. A couple of droid heads shattered against the floor, and pieces of medical equipment cracked and broke as he worked to free the shiny substance beneath the debris.

"Hey, hey!" Watto scolded, at least revealing his true colors. He angrily buzzed over to Luke, holding up an accusatory finger as the Jedi continued on with his quest. "Thiz stuff is going to take a long time to clean, you know!"

Luke ignored the small Toydarian and continued. Just a few more bits—he shoved aside a small piece of brown fabric engraved with an unfamiliar symbol as he worked his way down. A bloody, soaked rag…a container of liquid anesthesia…he would get to the bottom of this. Whatever he worked towards, it was a long, rectangular box with a smooth surface. It became more and more clear as he shoved the various pieces of junk, causing minor avalanches of glass and plastic to come tumbling down the pile. Though he did not know why, he felt compelled towards this object—he felt a need to investigate it, and to see what it contained inside.

There—it was done. Stepping back, he ran a hand over his hot forehead as he half-stumbled over a cracked medicinal cylinder behind him. Sighing, Watto zipped angrily behind him, letting out a few curses here and there as the sounds of dripping containers and sparking electronics flooded the corridor. Quite a mess, indeed. But Luke, however, paid no attention to anything; his eyes lay only upon the artifact. His blue eyes widened; his mouth opened slightly, partly in surprise, partly in a mysterious, subtle joy.

Breathlessly, Luke turned back to Watto, concealing the mix of anxiousness and excitement that had now exploded into him. No…he still had to keep his emotions down. Once the deal was sealed, all would be well. But this was too important. It had to be done just right…

"How much for this piece?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as Watto gawked at him with an angry look on his face.

"Vhat? You sift through my goods like they vere junk, break zeveral important pieces, and cause me a huge headache…and now you tell me you vant to buy this?"

"It's for sale, isn't it?" Luke asked, smoothing the hair back from his face. "A nice piece…" he began, patting the carbonite slab as though it was a grand prize. "I'm surprised you didn't thaw this one out and keep her around for a bit."

"Vell, you zee…" Watto began again, suddenly realizing his advantages in the situation. A deal was a deal, and if he could hawk this worthless junk to a young man with plenty of money, it would indeed be a beneficial situation for everybody. "I vould have done it, but this slab of carbonite lost itz self-thawing mechanizm a long time ago. Carbonite thawing costs an upvards of one hundred thousand credits these days…I would heve loved to help out, but I'm only a poor old man here…"

Luke cocked his head in false sympathy. "I could help you out with that," he began, putting a hand on his pack. "How much for this?"

"Forty thousand," Watto answered, smiling in spite of himself. "It'z a real treasure, this one."

"Forty thousand for a nobody? Come on," Luke urged, opening the closures on his pack. "You weren't even going to do anything with it. I'd be doing you a favor, taking it off your hands…this thing's not even worth twenty thousand, let alone forty."

Watto had clearly been induced to a bad mood; placing a hand over his face, he grimaced as he thought of the young stranger's offer. Well, it hadn't been as though anyone had really wanted that piece, anyway; and he did need the money, after all. The oily gears in the Toydarian's head began to turn, and he turned towards Luke with renewed confidence.

"Thirty thousand, then…take it or leave it."

"Done," Luke answered, scooping a heap of credit chips out of his pack. He quickly handed them to Watto, who eyed them curiously. "You can scan it out at the front," Luke offered. He patted the slab thoughtlessly. "It's not as if I'm going to run away with this thing."

Watto sighed, and tucked the credits into a small pouch that was slung over his shoulder. "Fine, fine," he called out, quickly turning around. Though the little alien was clearly annoyed at having his precious trash ransacked, he knew when he was about to make a good deal. "Come on, let'z go up to my office. I'll heve my men take it up to your transport as zoon as we settle thiz."

Luke watched as the greedy Toydarian floated away, his wings beating lazily as he skimmed back down the corridor. He turned back to the small treasure he had uncovered, and gingerly came closer to it. Laying his hand down on the smooth carbonite, he took a closer examination of what he had discovered.

-

The metal box was not a box at all—though smooth on the surface, it was a giant slab of solid material that rested neatly against the floor. The slab's surface however, was marred by a few irregular features—the outline of small, barefoot feet on the bottom, followed by the impression of a wispy nightgown beginning at the bottom, ending in long flowing sleeves and a circular neckline. Finally, at the end of the slab appeared the striking element—a woman's face emerging from the stone, just enough so that the frozen tears against her cheek were plainly visible. Her curly hair gathered at the sides of her face, and one hand emerged from the stone to grip her stomach. A moment frozen in time; a tragic story lost to the ages. Lost…and found.

An unknown force moved Luke to guide his hand directly to the woman's own hand, placed against her stomach. _Who is she? _he wondered, looking down at her closed eyes, her tearful expression. Her gesture—was she pregnant? Her stomach looked flat, but it seemed as though she had just gone through an extremely painful experience—perhaps she had just given birth.

_She must have been put into carbonite as soon as her child was born…_

An angry grunt from up ahead signaled Luke's departure. Watto's men were coming down to transport the carbonite block up to…up to where? A carbonite thawing facility…there had to be thousands on Coruscant. He would locate one and take her to it, no matter how expensive Watto said it would be.

His warm hand lingered against her frozen, carbonite-encased fingers.

_Soon._

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Anakin and Leia continue their trek through the snowy landscape, eventually coming across a rather dangerous group that might be their ticket off the planet. Luke finds a way to thaw the woman out of the carbonite, and works to find out who she is. Also, Lando isn't much appreciated in fanfic these days! Perhaps a Lando fanfic is in order…

End notes: I really hoped you all liked this chapter! I think it's pretty obvious who Luke found in carbonite, isn't it? The question is…will she trust Luke as much as he wants her to? Hehe. Please review, it really makes me very happy to see everyone's comments and suggestions!

JadedofMara: Thanks so much!!

Tilly: Yeah, Leia was pretty weird and angry in Chapter 6. I reason that it's because she's angry at being lied to, and she hates Vader with a vengeance because she remembers Padmé being sad because of Anakin (with her incredible OMG memory!)

Charlie Hayden: Yeah, they'll have to find a safe refuge somehow…somewhere…and Anakin is going to tell Leia more, in due time!

Sentrosi: Hehe, I just had it in me to write the next chapter really quick!

Inverness: Well, I guess they could have done it…but c'mon, that would have taken all the fun out of it!

ILDV: Hehe, hope that I delivered what you were expecting to hear…and yeah, I always did think that mother/son and father/daughter had similar dispositions!

elven-cat2: I'm glad you enjoyed Dex's Diner! I do have major beefs with the new prequels, and to tell you the truth, I always wondered why Dex knew so much about that dart Obi-Wan had than the entire Jedi Archives. But I like the cheesiness of the diner and wanted to bring it back. Also, I felt it was cooler than having Luke bump into Watto in some random place.

Vicster200: Thanks a bunch, looks like Dex was a hit!

Jedi Master Arie Skywalker: Hehe hope I delivered a good chapter this time, thank you!

Cibbler: Yeah, I love action in a fanfic. There's not enough of it, and I wanted to deliver more than just 'sappy love scene then drama scene then happy scene, etc." Thanks a lot!

VFSNAKE: Well, Obi-Wan and Yoda wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway P Thank you!

TheSummoningDark: Hehe, not exactly the same kind of deadbeat stuck in carbonite…

mlhkvh5: Thanks so much for your comment about my characterizations…I really care about doing justice to the SW characters, not having them act OOC and such. It really means a lot to me!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: More fun than herding nerfs! Thanks a lot!

Fluteplayer08: Well, if they died, I would lose half of the story! Sad, but true, and I'm sure Luke would feel awful…thank you, though!

miarath: Yeah, it should have been "loyal to the Alliance". I gotta get around to fixing that…

I know there are plenty of you that haven't reviewed yet, but please help me out and tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, etc. Happy trails!


	9. Interlude

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 9: Interlude

by ArchFaith

"I'm sorry, General Solo," Mon Mothma said gravely, clasping her hands together over her crossed legs. "Princess Leia has not been in contact with us for three days now."

Han creased his eyebrows, frowning as he stared back at the leader of the Rebel Alliance. "You have no idea where she is, then?"

Mothma shook her head, her short red hair framing her aged face as a worried look formed upon her face. "The last time we saw her was at our debriefing four days ago. She has not been in direct communication with us since that time. We assumed she was performing her duties in other capacities, and did not look into her whereabouts."

Han sighed, crossing his arms over his chest in exasperation. He had been looking high and low for Leia for days now; the last time he had seen her was after the debriefing with the Alliance leaders, after Luke had left with that Naberrie character. They had spent a passionate night together aboard the Falcon, but he woken up in the morning to find her gone. If there was anything Han disliked the most, one thing had to be waking up alone after such an intense experience with a woman; still, he had assumed that it was nothing new. During the days when the Alliance was most busy, she was up from dawn until the dead of night, working with her fellow Rebels to secure a better hold on situations with the Empire.

He thought nothing of it if he did not see her for one or two days, but it had been three days since he had last laid eyes on her. Usually, he would have seen her at least once, zipping around whichever base they were stationed on, barking orders at a subordinate or two, or instructing a droid as to their assignment…

Perhaps he was worried over nothing; perhaps Leia was merely caught up in her work, and forgot to let him know. Still…he frowned as he thought over his situation. Now Leia had _him _worrying; oh, the many times it had been the other way around…

"Do you wish us to submit an investigation?" Mothma asked, rising from the seat. The folds of her elegant white robe fluttered against the forest floor as she placed her hands against the make-shift wooden desk.

"No, no, that's fine," Han countered, stepping back. "She probably just got hung up somewhere…I'm sure she's around." Scratching his head, he began to back out of the large tent, his feet crunching against the rotting leaves.

"You know, General," Mothma added, crossing her arms over her chest, "these days have been quite difficult for Princess Leia. It must have been truly shocking for her to discover that Commander Skywalker is her biological brother…though the fact must have brought her some joy, it must have also added new suspicions and questions about her past. She might still be recovering from the surprise, in private."

_Oh, if only you knew who their daddy was,_ Han thought, the fact surfacing in the back of his mind. "Thank you, Commander Mothma," he said, giving her a stiff bow. "I'm sure I'll run into her shortly."

Mothma nodded gravely, her eyes resting on the former smuggler's figure as he turned to go out of the large tent. "Ah…General?" she called out suddenly, remembering a sudden request. Han turned, raising an eyebrow. "If you see General Calrissian, please tell him to submit his reports as soon as possible."

Han chuckled inwardly; as if that would ever happen. "Sure thing," he called, smiling as he exited the large tent. Pushing aside the flap, he took a quick look around and sighed; time to get back to the Falcon, and finish putting up its repairs.

The Rebel camp that had been set up only a few paces from the Ewok Village had slowly disbanded; many of the troops had been packed up and sent to other regions, ready to defend the New Republic from splinter cells of the Empire which held them at bay. The battle was far from over; though the Emperor had been destroyed, many powerful factions remained to pick up the pieces. Though the Alliance was small compared to the Empire's legions, it could not afford to celebrate and sit back on its laurels now, after one important victory; work still needed to be done. The suffering of millions was far from over, and various Rebel detachments had been employed to other planets to keep up the fragile peace.

Still, Mothma, Ackbar, and others still remained on Endor; the top leaders had called for a galaxy-wide conference of ambassadors from thousands of planets which had been oppressed by the Empire's tyranny. As it stood, half those nations had answered their invitation, and the other half was expected to respond within the week. The Ewoks had been informed of the upcoming political rally, and were quite excited and enthusiastic to lend the use of the Bright Tree Village to whomever wished to visit. The Battle of Endor had seemingly placed its namesake moon on the galactic map; Wicket, especially, had been struck with dreams of importance and grandeur.

_Psh,_ Han thought dismissively, running over these events in his mind. _I'd rather be running through space on the Falcon than sticking around for this highbrow club. _Still, he had thought Luke and Leia would be in attendance, and had planned to stay if only for them. But Luke had departed for Tatooine—well, that was what Luke told him, anyway. Han had suspected something going on beneath the young Jedi's surface, but had not questioned his motives. Though he thought of the younger man as a brother, he tried not to pry into Luke's business; besides, he was sure Luke would tell him the truth, when the time came. He had allowed Luke to depart without any questions from him. Leia though…Leia was just plain old gone.

The former smuggler trudged back towards the Falcon; having been deemed as an auxiliary part of the Rebel Navy, it had not been given a space on the landing pad. Instead, it was stationed in a large clearing north of the Ewok Village; it annoyed him that the Falcon was treated so poorly, and he scowled as he saw the state it remained it as he approached the ship from the south. The vehicle that had helped to destroy not one, but both Death Stars—parked on the grass like a common freighter! Lando had messed it up pretty badly during fierce battle, but that had been expected; the fact that it still wasn't repaired was what really got to him.

Things did not get better as he hiked up the ramp. "Find her?" Lando asked casually, slipping a pair of goggles off his face as Han collapsed into the booth in the back room.

Han shook his head. "She's gone," he said, leaning back in his seat. "No one's seen her for days."

"C'mon, now, you know how women are," Lando said, looking up at his old friend. "She's probably just sulking for a while. She probably doesn't want to be found."

"Eh," was Han's only response. "Sure." Leaning forwards, he suddenly remembered Mothma's entreaty. "Oh yeah…Lando, you better get something up to Mothma quick. You still haven't told her nothin' about the battle over the Death Star."

Lando cocked his head in annoyance. Laying the goggles down on the floor, he hopped up out of the trench and took the opposite seat next to his friend. "Wasn't it enough that I made it through?" he asked in frustration. "I thought Ackbar saw the whole thing. He could tell it way better than I could."

"You know how they are," Han replied, drumming his fingers on the holo-chess counter. "They need to make a report every time someone takes a 'fresher break during a briefing."

Lando chuckled. "I don't know," he began, "I'm just not used to all this—"

"E-Excuse me, sirs," a familiar, high-pitched voice echoed in the corridor of the Falcon. Han sighed, not even bothering to turn around as he propped his head against his hand.

"What is it, Threepio?"

The golden-plated droid ambled into the back room, being careful to avoid the exposed wires and electronics poking out of the walls and floor. "Good day, Captain Solo, General Calrissian," he greeted. "I have been quite busy as of late, but I have now come to tell you—"

"Will ya just get on with it?" Han asked angrily, seemingly unimpressed.

_How rude_, Threepio thought, as the metal gears within his head turned round and spun. He could never really understand why Master Luke or Mistress Leia was so fond of the scoundrel. "To make a long story short, sir, three days ago Mistress Leia recorded a message onto my data recorder. She requested that, if she had been gone for three days straight, I should deliver the message to you at this exact time."

"A _message_?" Han repeated, scowling. "Oh, this is just rich!" he exclaimed, shooting a frustrated glance at Lando. "She couldn't even tell me this herself?"

"I'm afraid that's not for me to judge, sir," Threepio answered, coming closer to the table. "Would you like me to play the message?"

"Yeah, yeah," Han answered, waving his hand.

A quick buzz could be heard from within Threepio's innards; though he was incapable of holding holographic recordings as Artoo could do, he was able to keep voice recordings inside his system. For one instant, the droid seemed to shut down entirely, his arms plastered to his sides as the lights in his eyes were slowly extinguished; Lando frowned as Han leaned forward, in quiet anticipation. Another zipping noise leapt out from Threepio's metal brain; in a sudden snapping motion, the droid came to life once again. A voice emerged, though it was not Threepio's own, fussy tone; it was Leia's voice, tinged with urgency and echoing dully through the droid's memory systems.

"Han," it began, with all the intonations of Leia's own voice, "I've recorded this message through Threepio, to deliver to you in case I don't come back from my watch in three days."

"Watch?!" Han barked out loud. Chewbacca, who had been lazing about in the cockpit, now poked his head through the doorway, in a sudden air of curiosity.

Leia's voice continued. "Yes, I know what you're thinking. What watch, right? At this point, I don't even know what I'm getting myself into…I just know that it's something I have to do."

_Uh oh, _Lando thought, glancing sideways towards Han. The blonde-haired man was leaning forwards in a kind of quiet frenzy, his hands placed on his hips as the confused expression upon his face only doubled in intensity. _This isn't going to end well…_

From within Threepio's voicebox, Leia sighed before continuing on. "Something is bothering me about a certain officer in the Alliance—there's something about him that I have to find out. I didn't want to bring anyone into this except for myself; I feel like it's my responsibility. I've been watching him for a few days now, and I just have to get to the bottom of this."

"She's stalking him?!" Han almost yelled, rising in his seat.

Lando quickly grasped his arm, and pulled him back down. "Just listen to the rest of it," he hushed.

"To make a long story short, Han…I'm going after him. I think he's going to try to get off Endor in a few hours. I'm pretty sure they'll give him a shuttle, since the X-wings all have pilots…but I'm going to follow him wherever he goes. Ani Naberrie won't be a second out of my sight for long."

_"What?!" _Han exclaimed, flying out of his seat despite Lando's attempts to keep him down. He felt an indescribable anger welling up within him; just what the hell was he hearing? Leia's voice sounded so neutral, so unemotional…was it possible that she had developed feelings for that Naberrie bastard? This was all so wrong, and twisted—did she love Naberrie, or was she stalking him? Whatever the truth, the blood began to boil deep within him; Han felt a quick pain well up in his head, and groaned as the headache hit him, sharp and strong. "I can't believe it," he said, sinking back down in his seat. "I don't know what to think anymore…"

"If you're listening to this message right now," Leia's voice continued. "It means something's happened to me. In all honesty, I might not even return from this little escapade, but it's something I had to do. If I'm not back, do everything in your power to locate Naberrie's shuttle. I also suspect that he and Luke are on to something…find my brother and question him for the truth. That is, if he is still on Endor at this time, which I doubt. But please, Han…don't bring any of the higher-ups in the Alliance into this. I trust that you, Lando, and Chewie will be able to take care of this on your own." There was a slight pause in the transmission, and then Leia's voice returned. "I have to go, Han. See you shortly."

"What in the…?" Han asked, looking over to Lando for any clues. Luke and Naberrie were working together on something? And Leia was stalking him, or following him around? Did Luke know that Leia had been following Naberrie? Had Leia developed some of feelings for pretty boy? _What the hell is going on here?_

He felt the excess of information congeal in his head as Chewbacca's furry hand slowly came up to grip his shoulder. Frowning, he turned up to his first mate and patted his paw with a sigh of gratitude. Lando had crossed his legs, and was now sitting with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at his friend. Threepio had reverted back to his normal state. "Did you hear everything alright, sir?" he asked, cocking his head.

Han sunk back into his chair, feeling his brain begin to turn over in his mind as he thought of all the different sentiments he had received in the last few minutes. He sighed, and turned his attention to the droid. "Loud and clear, Threepio," he replied.

_Kinda wish I hadn't._

-

The interior of the carbonite de-freezing chamber looked extremely similar to the one Luke had seen before, during his fateful battle with his father on Cloud City. Dimly lit, the chamber was a large cylindrical area fitted with low lighting. A large hole in the center of the chamber marked the place where the frozen blocks were placed to be thawed; on a slightly raised platform in a corner of the room, a control panel and several other mechanisms regulated the temperatures and functions within the thawing space. From above, several wires and tubes dangled down; the room was hot and stuffy, and steam poured out of a couple of vents built around the chamber.

It was only of several carbonite thawing chambers within the particular facility; located a few blocks from Watto's junk shop and the Coco Hangar, it had been the ideal place to take the block Luke had bought off the greedy Toydarian. Transporting it there had not been that hard; though the carbonite block had lost its self-thawing mechanism over the years, it still retained its self-propelling levitation mechanism. The carbonite had floated quickly and easily through the streets of Coruscant. Watto had been kind enough to provide an old, dirty blanket to cover the block with; Luke, wishing to preserve the woman's dignity, had made quick use of it.

The young Jedi sighed as a drop of sweat came down his forehead. Brushing his sandy blonde hair away from his head, he crossed his arms over his white-clad body. He had insisted on being present for the thawing process; he would not let the engineers do their job unless he was there. Begrudgingly he had been given a white jumpsuit, complete with goggles and mask; though observers were normally kept in waiting rooms off to the side, the carbonite thawing process was expensive, and it was relatively rare to thaw people out of carbonite. The carbonite engineers were hungry for patients, and were willing to fulfill Luke's requests if they could keep his business. Watto had been correct in his assessment; the thawing process alone would cost ninety thousand credits, and that did not take into account possible medical bills for any poisoning the victim might have experienced.

Luke raised his head, watching as the white-clad engineers lowered the frozen woman down into the thawing well. He felt a sudden protective feeling surge through him as he saw the block being handled down into the hole; a quick urge to run out and make sure she was alright suddenly struck him. But the problem remained; he did not even _know_ this woman. Of course it was a pity that she should have been stuck within the metal for all of those years, but why should he go out of his way for a stranger? The cost alone was staggering; of course he had enough, but if the expenses increased he would need to go into the Alliance's own private accounts. As a high-ranking commander, he was trusted with their funds; still, he had to provide a reason for his sudden spending.

_On a whim, I decided to thaw out a woman in carbonite? _he thought to himself as the block settled with a dull thud against the floor of the well. The engineers scurried about, making sure that the preparations were complete; nearly ten of them swarmed around the chamber, checking the steam vents and recording notes into their small pads. The block lay in a horizontal position at the bottom of the well, the frozen woman's troubled face plainly visible as Luke peered down into the hole. Well…she was in for a surprise when she awoke…

"Sir, please put your goggles on," a young female engineer requested, coming up to him. Luke did as he was told; snapping the goggles over his bright azure eyes, he backed away as the well as the other engineers gathered against the wall. The young woman, her own goggles in place over her large eyes, crossed over to the control panel and pushed several buttons and switches. "All is clear," she announced. "Commencing with the thawing procedure."

Steam came gushing out of the vents; it grew increasingly warmer within the room, and the steam made it harder to see. Luke backed against the wall, watching with an acute anticipation; as the sweat poured down his tanned face, his eyes were set against the thawing trench, hoping and praying that everything would go smoothly. A quick fear crept into his innards as the heavy sounds of machinery began to fulfill the room; what if she did not survive?

_This is one of the oldest carbonite patients we have had to thaw, _they had told him after quickly examining the block. _An older carbonite freezing process was used on her; it hasn't been implemented for about fifteen years now._

The steam coated the entire chamber in a hot, stifling fog; coughing slightly, Luke strained to see through his dense goggles. It would only a few more minutes before it was over…

_She's lucky to have survived the freezing process! But she was frozen more than fifteen years ago; we don't know what her chances are of surviving the thaw._

A low hum sounded within the thawing well, and a red glow began to radiate out of the hole. The scientists watched intently, several armed with data pads and recording devices as well as a few medics with thermometers and portable pulse readers. No doubt that the thaw of a specimen so old would draw their attention; still, Luke was wary of any attention they might draw. He could not allow news of this to get out into the town.

Luke closed his eyes for an instant, calculating how they would make their exit. Hopefully the woman would be well enough to leave the thawing clinic after a few hours; he would instruct her to pretend she had amnesia. Surely it would cause a stir if she turned out to be someone…well-known. He frowned to himself. _I can't get my hopes up, _he thought. _Anakin will be here in a few hours now…what will he think of all this nonsense?_

Still, he had a feeling that all this nonsense was going to be worth something in the long run.

The hum had intensified, and the red glow softened for an instant. Then it started back up again, and a loud clanging sound came out from the well. A sudden pouring sound emerged, as if a river of liquefied metal had just formed within the chamber; the sound of liquid streaming against the floor signified the end of the process. It had not taken long; but for Luke, it had seemed as though it would never end.

He leaned forward, letting his anticipation show as he pealed the goggles back from his sweating forehead. A few airing ducts had opened on the walls, and the thick steam was slowly dissipating back into the vents. The chief engineer pressed a few buttons on her panel; a metallic sound emerged from the well. The carbonite block and its prisoner were being brought back up to the surface.

Impatiently Luke eyed the rising slab, his fear suddenly heartfelt as he struggled to see through the layers of rising steam. The engineers had already surrounded the slab, and obscured his view of the carbonite; he had been told to stand back and let them do their job earlier. But now…_I can't even see her…what if she's..?_

A quick impulse, inherited directly from Anakin, told hold of him—he descended the low steps from the control panel area, unzipping the closures on his white jumpsuit as he walked over to the slab. The huddled engineers crowded around it, oblivious to Luke's arrival; he elbowed them aside, his face growing angry as they looked back to him.

"Please, sir," one of them said, frowning. "We understand your concerns, but we need to check her vital signs—"

Luke shook his head, scowling. "I need to get through. She might be confused, or frightened. I need to be with her. She's been in hibernation for so long that she might go into shock if I'm not there!"

At that moment, a rasping noise emanated from the carbonite; a rustling of fabric, and a few quick gasping noises rose from the now-thawed out patient. Still, Luke could not see her; the engineers blocked his way. The sounds only drove him more insane. "Let me through!" he demanded, his eyes wild as he tried to push his way in.

He raised his voice, the determination apparent as he attempted to get through the small crowd. Begrudgingly the chief engineer raised her hand; the others, seeing his raised temper, quickly filed away. Luke rushed up to the slab, sinking to his knees as he examined the woman lying before him, his body shaking with both fear and joy at the same moment.

-

The woman was young, perhaps in her mid twenties; before, when she had been encased in carbonite, her features had been difficult to see. But now, all was plain and visible; her dark, curly hair, drenched with steam and water, gathered on the sides of her smooth, pale face. Her gown was plain and white, and looked like a plain hospital garment; the only decoration visible on her person was a long necklace hung on a rope chain. The pendant was hand-carved, and it hung down from her neck as she struggled to sit up.

Luke was at her side in an instant; he knelt down next to her, tentatively laying a hand on her damp shoulder as the woman slowly sat up, holding a hand to her mouth as she gasped and coughed, no doubt from the various chemicals that had been used to thaw her in the first place. At his touch, she recoiled in a quick fear; her eyelashes parted, revealing liquid brown eyes that immediately reminded Luke of his own dear sister.

She raised her eyes to his, it seemed; yet she blinked over and over again, seemingly in confusion. "I can't see," she whispered, in an alarmed voice. "I can't see…who is it? Who's there?"

"Shh," Luke hushed, squeezing her shoulder. "It's alright…you're in safe hands."

The woman had begun to shake now, slowly trembling as her unseeing eyes moved all about the room; the hibernation sickness had begun to set in, and it looked like a more severe version of the same illness Han had suffered after being freed from the carbonite. Wrenching her shoulder out of Luke's grasp, she hugged herself as the remnants of the steam continued to circulate throughout the room. "Where am I?" she demanded, her voice low, her body shaking as she gripped the sides of the block. "Who are you?" she asked again, her eyes drifting towards the direction of Luke's voice.

"I—"

"Obi-Wan?!" she called out, without waiting for an answer. "Obi-Wan…is he here? Where is he?!"

_Obi-Wan. _The very mention of the name seemed to hit Luke, sending a silent explosion over his body as he continued to kneel at the frightened woman's side. She was still trembling, still shaking from the shock of the thawing process; her hair streamed wildly down her back, and her face displayed a confused and frightened expression as she continued to cry out.

"Where am I?" she demanded again. "My children…where are my children?"

A clamp seemed to have attached itself to Luke's heart; he felt it tightening as he reached out for her again, taking her hand and entwining it within his own. "Don't fret," he soothed. "They're safe…they're fine."

"Where are they?" she asked, a worried expression creeping into her voice.

"Right here," Luke said quickly, in spite of himself. Horrified, he checked himself; he had not meant to say that…he did not even know if she was…_But of course she is, who else would she be?_

"Excuse me," the chief engineer's voice murmured from behind him. "We need to bring her to the clinic; she has hibernation sickness and is in severe shock from the thawing process—"

"What do you mean?" the woman asked, absently gripping Luke's hand as she brought her fingers to the necklace she wore. "Thawing process? How long have I been…?"

"It's going to be alright," Luke said, squeezing her hand. "I'll be here to make sure you're safe. I'll explain everything in time…I knew Obi-Wan. He would have wanted me to look after you."

Despite her obvious blindness, the woman seemed unmoved; her eyes grew cold as she continued to shake, her small body trembling as tears began to gather at the corner of her eyes. "What do you mean, 'knew'?" she asked, blinking wildly. "You speak as if he's not alive…"

No; why had he phrased it like this? She could not be shocked like this, she had to be told gently; why had he been so stupid and unthinking? "No, it's not like that—"

The woman's voice grew bolder, more demanding. "I saw him only a few minutes ago! He had Luke and Leia with him…I demand to see him this instant!"

"Sir," the chief said, as a strong hand descended down upon his shoulder. "She is growing hysterical. We are taking her to the clinic right now."

Horrified, the woman tried to stand; however, her weak legs gave out below her, and she collapsed back into the carbonite with a tearful cry. The medics had gathered around her now; activating the levitation button, the slab slowly lifted off the ground, bringing its confused, angry patient with it. Luke rose with her, still attempting to hold her hand. "Let go of me," she demanded, wrenching her fingers away; closing her eyes, she turned her head away from him, sobbing quietly as the medics escorted the block out of the chamber.

"Padmé," Luke murmured as he stood, shock-still, in the middle of the chamber. Crossing his arms in front of him for support, his face grew troubled as his eyes widened with tears. _Padmé, _he thought, echoing the name in his mind. _Mother…Mother…_

With a slight cough he realized that he was crying; the tears had quietly begun to flow down his cheeks in a great show of emotion as he realized who exactly he had been speaking to. Not in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined that he would meet her; that he would be able to speak to the woman who had given him life….but the way he had found her, and the manner in which he had to tell her the truth…this was another story entirely.

He hurried out of the chamber, following the parade of engineers and medics down the dim corridor as the woman's muffled sobs echoed down the hallway. He wanted to see his mother.

_Your son is here, Padmé. _

-

To be continued.

End notes: Whew! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Of course, we all knew who was encased in carbonite…Padmé herself! I also hope everyone enjoyed the small part with Han in the beginning. In the other chapters, there were only two "fronts" being followed, that of Luke and Anakin, and that of Leia (which later changed to that of Luke and that of Anakin and Leia). I wanted to open up another setting with just Han, since I don't see Han as prominently as I see the Skywalker family in fanfics. Han's important too! As for Padmé…I realize she is quite out of character here, but my reasoning is that she's extremely disoriented and is going into hysterics because of all the stress she's been through. But please tell me what you all thought of this chapter, I really want to know your opinions about it!

VFSNAKE: Hehe yes! Padmé lives! And of course I have to write something about Anakin and Leia…they can't go trudging alone in the snow with each other without having some kind of conversation!

Sonseeahray: Thank you! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

mlhkvh5: Thank you! I've always loved Anakin/Leia stories, because I think they really resemble each other in temperament.

ILDV: I hope you're happy, because I decided to use your idea in my fanfic! I thought it was fantastic, and I did need a way for Leia to leave a message for Han! Thanks so much for the idea!

Fluteplayer08: Hehe, I don't know…I didn't even think of that!

Jedi Master Arie Skywalker: Thank you! I really wanted to write an adventure fic because that's what SW is about…action and adventure!

TheSummoningDark: Yeah, it's a bit of cliché, really. Originally, Padmé was going to be dead for the whole story, but I thought more about it and realized that I could do some very interesting plot developments with her character…

Hieiko: Oh yes! Only the best kind!

Cibbler: Yup, Luke's in for it! Anakin and Leia, however, have no idea…

Charlie Hayden: Oh, they'll find a way off ice cube planet…in the next chapters!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Haha yeah…poor Ani and Leia and Artoo, stranded on an iceball! I hate making characters suffer in a fanfic…

Lars: Thank you so much!

miarath: Well, here's a hint. I'm bringing back somebody else…from the past…in a future chapter. Not a very good hint, but yeah…

operative lm: Ah, how am I going to explain Padmé's funeral? Well, I'll explain that in a future chapter, hehe. But I _was_ thinking about it!

Beth Weasley: Aw, thank you! But yeah, I want to put Dex in a future chapter, cause I love that old fart.

Zigflorian: Hehe…_if_ they all meet up!

Proud Bishonen Whore: Hope this update came fast enough for you!

Chronormu: Haha I think everyone knew who was in the carbonite anyway!

Vicster200: I wonder, too! P

elven-cat2: Thank you for your kind words! About the whole Luke finding Padmé thing…I realize it has the potential to turn out horrible and corny, but I really wanted to have Padmé in the story as the completing member of the Skywalker family. I hope I'm able to write her well, and able to make my story amazing.

Sentrosi: Eek, hope you did well on them!

DanaeMariSkywalker: Haha! I really wanted to blend elements of the original and new trilogies, and having Luke visit Dex's diner seemed like a cool thing to do. Hope this chapter came quickly enough…thank you!!!

Please review my fanfic! Give me some new ideas, tell me what you liked and didn't like, etc. I want to make this an amazing story!!


	10. Elements

Note: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 10: Elements

by ArchFaith

A strange feeling; a confused feeling. Joy, deep and heartfelt, mixed with feelings of confusion, and pain. It was an ecstatic cry, followed by a great cloud of doubt and sympathy. And…love. A perplexed love, as if the giver did not know where to direct it towards; as if this love had always existed, only in a dormant state. Then there was great shock and surprise, mixed with profuse feelings of doubt and frustration. Such a disjointed emotion…

"Do you feel it?" the former Sith Lord asked, turning back to Leia, who had been walking a pace behind him. Their boots crunched against the frozen snow as they trudged across the icy plain, the sun hanging low in the dull white sky.

Leia nodded, her eyes grave as she turned her gaze towards Anakin. "Yes…faintly, but…yes."

Anakin's eyes turned back towards the ground as the two continued their hike through the icy wastelands, Artoo trailing behind them in a sort of weary parade. "I wonder what he's up to," he said out loud, sifting through the still-ebbing feelings he had suddenly received from his son. Luke must have reached Coruscant by now; but what could have caused this outpouring of sudden emotion from him? What could have possibly triggered the mixed feelings he suddenly felt now? It had be something incredible; but these differing emotions were so bewildering that was hard to tell whether Luke had just seen a miracle or an execution.

"You can't figure out what happened to him?" Leia asked, with the slightest hint of sarcasm. "I thought Jedi could communicate with each other through their thoughts, as you did with me aboard the shuttle."

Anakin again turned back towards his daughter, and slowed his pace so that they now walked side by side. "They can," he answered. "But Jedi are not sorcerers. We can't possibly see and know everything that happens to those we have a connection with. It's a wonder Luke's own feelings were able to travel this far to me…he must be on Coruscant by now. I feel like he wasn't even trying to reach me."

"'We'"? Leia echoed, narrowing their eyes. "When you say 'we', do you mean the fellow Jedi you hunted and killed for Palpatine after the Clone Wars?"

Anakin looked back at her momentarily; his azure eyes widening as her sharp words cut through him. But still…it was the truth, plain and unadulterated. For an instant, he pondered how his two children could be so different from each other; Luke had not mentioned anything about his past deeds as Darth Vader. He had only wanted to hear about his own heritage, and about the deeds of the Jedi before the rise of the Empire. Luke had not questioned him about his crimes; his son had truly seen the good side of his father, and firmly wished to stay there.

Leia, however…Leia was merciless. She was truly her father's daughter, always looking on both sides of the situation. In this case, however, she would not relent; though they had just gone through an extremely traumatic experience together during the crisis aboard the shuttle, it seemed she had not shed her rough exterior. But perhaps things would be better this way.

"Yes," he answered simply, acknowledging Leia's scalding statement. "The ones I helped to destroy…and you and I and Luke, now."

The brown-haired woman next to him frowned at his quick acknowledgement of guilt. "Do you really think anyone can completely forgive you for what you've done?" she asked suddenly, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

A hard expression formed on Anakin's face; keeping his eyes focused on the towering mountains far in the distance, he blinked. "Not really," he replied, neutrally.

Leia cocked her head slightly, feeling an odd emotion well up within her as they trudged along, the wind whipping the furry hoods of their parkas against their faces. She felt as though she wanted to believe what Anakin said; truthfully, she knew he was not lying. And yet…the mistrust would always be present. She would never be able to forget what he had done as Vader…but perhaps this resentment could be placed aside for now. There remained more important things at hand. Facts she had waited her whole life to know. And questions about the situation Anakin now found himself in.

"You have not told me how exactly you were de-aged," she began, after a few minutes of silent contemplation. The question, strangely, had barely crossed her mind; she had not been focusing on Anakin's dramatic change in appearance so much as the fact that, no matter what body, he would still be Darth Vader.

Anakin creased his eyebrows in quick surprise; she was actually attempting to start a conversation with him? Well…quite unexpected, to say the least. He had only been expecting her to talk with him when it was absolutely necessary, but the change in atmosphere was heartily welcome.

"A few months back the Empire got a hold of a regeneration device built a few hundred years ago on Coruscant," he began. "It had only been tested on lower life forms, but I had commissioned some of the Emperor's scientists to perfect it on human subjects…"

What followed was a shortened explanation of the events aboard the Death Star following the Emperor's demise; the details of Anakin's regeneration especially intrigued Leia, and she listened with an attentive ear. As long as they were trapped in this dilemma together, she reasoned, it would be best to learn all she could from him. Not just about the time he and Luke had spent hiding on Endor, but about many other things as well.

"…and Antilles told me I could have the shuttle," Anakin said, his words rounding out to a finishing tone. "That's where you come in, Princess."

Leia nodded, in slight embarrassment as the thought of her impulsive confrontation with her father aboard the shuttle. "Yes," she said simply. "Thank you for reminding me."

"My pleasure."

Artoo made a few low whistles, simply for the sake of saying something; as an astromech droid, he did not have the unlimited capacity for communication possessed by Threepio. Still, he liked to make himself known every now and then, let everyone know that he was silently observing and watching.

Anakin smiled at Artoo's quick noises. "Sorry your nap was interrupted," he said playfully, patting the droid's domed head. "I can't believe you and Threepio were with the Alliance this whole time."

Leia cocked her head as Artoo whistled affirmatively. "He was a droid on my mother's ship?" she asked. "I find it very hard to believe that out of all the millions of astromech droids in the galaxy, one should end up serving both myself and my mother by coincidence."

"I think you'd find that a lot of things happen by coincidence," Anakin answered, turning back to her.

She shook her head incredulously. Now, though, it was time to get to the real topic of conversation. Though it was hardly the place to bring up such things—after a crash-landing on an icy plain, with only a few days' worth of rations at hand and the winds and snow coming down lightly all around them—she decided that there would be no harm in asking some important questions. _Might as well be now._

"I want to know about Padmé," she whispered, her breath forming a small cloud in front of her face. "In a way, I'm sort of jealous that Luke's been told so much more than I have."

Anakin frowned. "Don't be," he answered. "You would have heard it, in due time. Neither of you are exactly vying for my affections."

A grim smile crept up onto the corners of Leia's face. "Don't think I want any," she answered. "Plain and simple…I want to know about my mother."

"Then I'll tell you everything I know," he began, blinking as he again looked down to the ground. He turned his mind inward, back into the annals of time; he recalled the day he had breezed into Watto's shop, a sandy-haired boy of nine. Just a regular day for a slave on Tatooine—until he looked up to see the brown-haired girl, just a few years older than himself, looking interestedly around the shop.

_I think that would be the best place to begin._

-

The conversation was amiable, but not without an edge of tension; though neither regarded the other as dangerous, there still existed a wary, exhausted anxiety. Leia, for her part, could not put aside the sentiments that she was speaking to the former Darth Vader, one of the most hated men in the galaxy—and her own father. But she could never really regard Anakin as her father; Bail was the only person fit for that description. Still, these stories of her heritage fascinated her, just as they had Luke. The times when the Jedi regulated peace throughout the galaxy, when the Republic was truly a democracy and not just an outlet for the tyrannical rule of the Emperor; truly a remarkable time. But the image Anakin painted of Padmé attracted her in quite different way; she found herself drawn to the illustration of the gentle, loving woman in feelings she had never truly let herself know before.

She had been a peaceful woman, quiet and humble in her personal life, yet charismatic and powerful in public. She had apparently moved the entire planet of Naboo with her own goals for the future; with her words, an entire corrupt regime had toppled down, leaving her to be crowned their queenly champion. And she had been one of the early founders of the Rebel Alliance; along with her own adoptive father and Mon Mothma, she had helped to establish the very organization that had now restored peace to the galaxy. The very organization Leia had worked to uphold for the last few years of her life.

As she listened to Anakin's words, the princess reflected back to the times when she imagined what her real mother had been like. She knew that she been adopted from a very early age; yet she never asked her parents about Padmé whatsoever. The reasons behind this were complex; for one, she did not want to embarrass or discomfort her parents in any way. Secondly, she had not even known if she wanted to learn more about her real mother anyway. She did not even know why she knew that Padmé was her mother's name; of course she had heard of the Naboo Senator Padmé Amidala, but what well-educated child had not? Padmé's name was written on the history books in all the universities, even the Imperially-funded textbooks she had been forced to memorize as a student. Still…she had made the connection without any clues as to why.

_Why?_

The question stayed in her mind as she and Anakin spoke, as she placed forth questions to hear his informative answer. Still…she did not completely trust him. In a way, though, she wished that she could.

The sun had now dipped low in the sky; a pale purple blanket now covered the vast darkening sky, edged by a lacy row of red and orange against the horizon. It had been about early afternoon when they had set out from the ruins of the wrecked craft; now, as they had been walking for about seven or eight hours, night would follow soon after. The icy plains grow colder and somehow more desolate; as the entire sky slowly slid into twilight, the temperatures seemed to drop tenfold. It became more difficult to speak; though they were fortunate to avoid a sudden snowfall, the dip in degrees was readily apparent. Although their thick, heavyweight parkas were wrapped tightly around their bodies, it was still not going to be enough to withstand the deadly freeze that would overtake the plains of ice once twilight dissipated into night. They would surely freeze to death if they did not find shelter soon, and this was an issue they knew very well.

As night fell, father and daughter had ceased speaking; as much as they had wanted to continue their conversations, even a tiny little word would, at this point, require an incredible amount of physical exertion. Though they had stopped to rest at a few points during their endless journey, the exhaustion and dulled pain had risen to almost unbearable levels; frost formed on their eyebrows and noses, and they felt their feet and hands numb as the temperatures continued to fall. If they did not find shelter soon, it was inevitable what would happen to them once the long night took control of the day.

Anakin tucked the fur-lined mouthguard over his face, rubbing his gloved hands together as he looked out into the expanse of the darkened sky. Being in a pressurized, armored suit for over twenty years did not contribute to his plight; he had not felt cold for two decades, and the stinging chill of the wind lapping against his face was almost shocking as the three figures trudged on in the dark blue haze of ice and snow. Still no sign of…anything. He had requested that Artoo their areas for signs of lifeforms hourly, and each time yielded no success. Perhaps now he would receive the death he had been expecting ever since he had killed the Emperor; he would not die in a malfunctioning regenerator, or from a thermal explosion. Anakin Skywalker would perish in a cold, forsaken place, remembered only by his son. And Leia, of course.

_I would die with you, _she replied, her feelings taking on a deprecatory tone. Anakin shifted his eyes towards her in surprise; so, she had been attuning her thoughts to him. From beneath the ice-covered mouthguard, Leia's brown eyes blinked as the icicles formed against her long eyelashes. _I don't want to die here, Vader._

_Nor do I, _he replied, creasing his frosted eyebrows. _Luke would have a pretty hard time of it, losing both of us in the same way._

_Luke doesn't know where we are. He doesn't even know I came with you aboard the shuttle._

_Than that would make it even worse._

They had come to a standstill now; the snow had picked up, and freezing drafts whistled against the weather-beaten travelers as they both wordlessly stopped in their tracks. The sun had completely disappeared, leaving no trace of light in the sky; all was dark and black around them. The only light visible appeared from a emergency lightstem located within Artoo's dome; the small droid shivered as the snowflakes seeped into the small vents and ports within his frame. Barely managing a whistle, the droid looked up to its two superiors as they wordlessly stopped, staring at each other with grim expressions.

"I can't go much further," Leia said, raising her voice to combat the volume of the flowing wind. "I don't know how much longer I can stand this."

Anakin shook his head. "Neither can I." He sighed, feeling the cold breath brush against the furry mouthguard as he looked about him in frustration.

"We could try building a shelter from the snow," Leia suggested, feeling her eyebrows tense up as the frosty ice stuck to her face.

Anakin dug the ground tentatively with his foot; no luck. It was all ice, frozen over by a fresh layer of snow. The only sort of shelter they could hope to build would be less than a foot thick. He sighed deeply, feeling the cold air circulating deep within his lungs. He slowly shook his head. "There's nothing we can do."

Frustrated, Leia turned from him and found herself staring at the dark, icy plain; besides Artoo's emergency light and the twinkling glow of the distant stars above, there was nothing to be seen besides the sugary whiteness, here and now punctuated by a row of small hills. They could have been walking in any direction…they could have been walking in circles, for all they knew. And now, it seemed, they had reached the end of the line; twilight was quickly fading away, and the black night was advancing upon them. The temperatures, low as they were, would reach unprecedented levels in little more than thirty minutes; even Han, Luke, and their dead tauntaun had had more of a chance of survival then she, Anakin, and Artoo had at the moment. Though they had their heat-retaining parkas, not even those would be adequate to last them more than a few minutes in the open night.

_Han…Luke…_she thought, feeling a small tear wind its way down her cold face. To think; she, who had survived the perils of the Death Star, the humiliation at Jabba's palace, and the underdog battle on Endor, would now perish on some godforsaken planet in an icy snowstorm. No one even knew where she was; she had left a message for Han through Threepio, but there was no way of locating Anakin's shuttle now. It had been decimated; and with it, any chance of rescue.

She felt her muscles tense, in a dull fashion; she could hardly even feel her body anymore. She realized that Anakin had placed his hand on her shoulder; fleetingly she turned around. The single tear had frozen against her face; Anakin frowned, and gave her a gentle pat on the arm. Seeing her so distressed reminded him so much of Padmé, back when they had been young and innocent together; in an instant he saw a flicker of his dead wife in his daughter, and smiled sadly as Leia raised her liquid brown eyes to his face.

"I—" she began, opening her chapped lips to speak. In that instant, however, she glanced over Anakin's shoulder in an absent reverie. "I—" she began again, her eyes widening as she blinked, in a maddened state of mind. Was it…was it real? Or only a figment of her imagination, an icy mirage caused by her tense state of mind?

Anakin, noticing her sudden confusion, quickly turned around. In spite of the grave situation, a wide smile formed on his white lips as he turned back to his surprised daughter. "I see it," he exclaimed, putting both hands on her shoulders in excitement. Artoo quickly spun around to see what all the fuss was about; catching sight of the unexpected image, he whistled in excitement.

Leia sighed, a relieved tone apparent in her voice as she focused her eyes against the horizon over Anakin's shoulder, her heart beating fast within her heaving chest. "We have to get there as soon as possible."

A set of yellow lights, twinkling in the distance; they hovered close to the horizon, but they definitely signaled some sign of civilization nestled among the darkened plains. They had not been there before; for whatever reason, the lights were now turned on, and were twinkling with a faint but steady glow. Perhaps it was a small settlement, or a mining project of some sort. Whatever it was, it spelled one thing—shelter.

"It looks about two miles off," Anakin noted, narrowing his eyes. "We can make it within a few minutes if we push."

Leia nodded, her eyes wandering from the flickering lights to Anakin and back again. "Yes," she agreed, "let's go."

For one confused second, the two had stood facing each other, awkwardly waiting for the other to take the lead. Anakin was not sure what exactly came over him, but his hand had reached out to grasp Leia's gloved fingers within his own. "Come on," he said, motioning for Artoo to follow them.

"What are you doing?" she asked, creasing her eyebrows. Despite her words, she did not struggle or attempt to pull away; though she partially recoiled at his gloved touch, she welcomed the sudden warmth the gesture brought. It was not warmth in a physical way; they could not feel each other's skin through their gloves, but the sentiment remained the same. The short action caused Leia to lapse momentarily; in a flash she saw herself back on Alderaan as a young girl, walking hand-in-hand with Bail through the beautiful green gardens of the palace. She had been so young, and so happy in her childlike manner; Bail had been loving and attentive, as any father should be. The cold seemed to seep through her memories, however; she found her soul back on the icy rock, her hand held by a rather different father than she had imagined.

Anakin was startled at her sudden question, and suddenly surprised himself at his show of affection. It had been an automatic reaction; he had not meant to do it, but some willpower inside himself had reached out for his daughter's hand. Some buried part of him felt a twinge of deep regret, as he had earlier with Luke. Leia was a grown woman, now; he had not enjoyed the privilege of knowing her as a child. It was quite strange really; he realized that, ever since they had crash-landed on the icy planet a few hours before, he had felt a sudden protectiveness for her. It was a cautious feeling, and not nearly as defined as it had been for Luke. But it was there, and this was all that mattered.

"Sorry, Princess," he said quickly. He did not let go of her hand.

Leia blinked and, with a quick sigh, stepped up next to him, firmly entwining her gloved hands within his. _I guess it's time to lighten up a bit, _she thought, a strange feeling welling up within her as they began to walk towards the yellow lights, with Artoo wobbling after them. _I tire of hating you so acutely, Vader._

_I'm glad, _he replied, without looking back towards her. _I was hoping you wouldn't shoot me again._

-

The long building was covered in a sheet of white; not only from the snow, but also from the dull sheen of moisture-absorbing white chrome. It was flat and low, and looked like a long white rectangular block that had been thrown down onto the planet's surface. The yellow lights seen from afar had had been searchlights, affixed to the roof of the structure; some scanned the sky with bright beams, while others merely blinked on and off. It was a large, utilitarian structure, solid and sturdy, and looked large enough to house a hangar, living quarters, and offices besides. It seemed to be built partway underground; tiny windows peeked out from the base of the structure, and figures could be seen milling about inside, to the glow of soft holo-lights.

Leia's eyes widened as they neared the structure, Anakin's hand still gripping hers through the small torrents of snow that glittered around them each time they took a step. Long, low, and partially hidden underground…she had seen this place before, it could only be…

"Halt!" a loud, female voice shouted in Basic, startling both them and Artoo. The voice sounded with a dull echo, and crinkled slightly with a static sheen. "Identify yourselves!" The voice seemed to echo from a large speaker affixed to the outside wall of the structure; underneath it, a chrome-plated metallic globe moved to and fro; it was a holo-sphere, and had apparently been the apparatus that had seen them in the first place.

A bright searchlight on the roof swerved its position, and quickly spun around to shine directly on them. Anakin shielded his eyes with his hand; catching a quick glance at Leia, he turned to reply. "Our ship crashed on this planet a few hours ago," he said simply. Whoever these people were, they did not seem friendly; but he and Leia had already been noticed, and to attack the entire structure with only two blasters would have been suicide.

Cautiously he reached out to the Force; he could feel it pulsing faintly through his veins, slightly unfamiliar from years of misuse for his own devices. In many ways, he was still adjusting to the newfound stresses of using the light side of the Force; he had been so immersed in the dark side that rising out of it was like trying to move a starship with a shovel. For now, he could not access the Force as quickly and as easily as Luke could; but he would try to use it for their own advantage anyway.

He focused his mind on the large structure, and tried to observe the people within; straining, he momentarily lowered his eyes to the ground below them. He had to read them correctly to be able to gauge his responses; they could literally be any kind of organization at all, from an Imperial remnant group to a sleazy class of slave-traders. Still; he had not stretched out to the Force in this way—for a good purpose—for a long time.

Though it felt like an eternity, it was only a few seconds before he felt his vision moving past the walls, as if he could see through them. He could see the bundled denizens of the complex within; scruffy, ill-kept people who looked as though they had never worked an honest day in their lives. There was a large hangar, full of ancient ships that were being loaded with various crates and boxes; groups of people stood huddling about, playing card games on upturned boxes or picking fights with each other using trivial accusations. A shipping facility…

"What is your business here?" the voice again demanded, smooth and unaffected.

Anakin cocked his head, and quickly snapped back to reality. He looked up to the globe with a confident expression on his face. "Same as yours," he replied. He still had not found out the reason for this place; it frustrated him, but he would have to deal with it. Besides…the place was not a clear threat. It seemed dangerous, but it also seemed like it might be a place of fortune—if they played the cards right.

The voice was silent for a few moments; the spotlight remained rooted on the three figures, extending their dark shadows down onto the white ice below. Leia nervously squeezed Anakin's hand, turning to him as she narrowed her eyes. "They could kill us at any moment," she whispered, quite forgetting her power to speak to him without words. "They're hesitant…we should leave."

"Wait," Anakin said, looking back at the revolving globe. "I…I think we should see this out. They may not be friendly, but if we can—"

The voice interrupted their conversation. "You will be allowed inside…out of the goodness of my heart."

No sooner said than done, it seemed; a low gurgling sound seemed to emerge within, and a small section of the white chrome wall seemed to fall away, revealing a dark, dimly-lit passage inside. Anakin turned back to Leia, a grave look upon his face. "On your guard, Princess," he almost commanded, absently tightening his grip on her fingers as Artoo emitted a few nervous beeps.

Leia nodded, a short military gesture; she gently patted her long assault blaster, hidden beneath the layers of the heavy white parka. "Same to you, pretty boy."

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: What exactly is the place Anakin and Leia have stumbled across? Who's inside, and how are they going to escape? What has happened to Luke and Padmé on Coruscant, and how will she react to the news that her tiny babies are now fully grown adults? Also, will Han ever figure out what's going on? Stay tuned!

End notes: I hope you liked this all Anakin/Leia/Artoo chapter! I was going to intersperse it with the stuff happening on Coruscant, but I felt like this needed to be one long chapter in order to directly convey the atmosphere I was going for here. I feel like this chapter may have been a bit long, but I was really going for a sense of isolation and tension here…I hope you all liked it! I'm just so glad this story is so well-liked by so many…I really wasn't expecting this kind of reception at all! Please let me know if you liked this chapter, and any other suggestions you have to make this story excellent and amazing for all those who read!

VFSNAKE: You're so excited!!! Yup…as for Padmé's love for Anakin…well, you'll just have to find out about that! Thanks for sticking with me!

ILDV: Haha, I'll explain more about Padmé's funeral later! I also love your idea for "Endor 2: The Revenge"! Made me laugh just thinking about it! Come up with more funny things, maybe we can use them in the story! Also…nah, Mothma doesn't know that Padmé is Leia's mom. She was just saying general things to calm Han down. As for lightsabers…they got the Force P

annependragon: Haha, well, Leia and Anakin are sort of working towards accepting each other…Ani already has, Leia's just holding back a bit.

elven-cat2: I hope you loved this chapter full of Anakin! As for Coruscant, yes…Luke's lying low in the poorer districts, like Coco Town. I mean, what the Imperials do if they knew Padmé was alive?!

Nautica7mk: I'm glad you enjoyed the de-freezing part! I was thinking I hadn't written it very well at first, but I really wanted to put in the little details and actions that go into de-freezing a carbonite block D

Proud Bishounen Whore: Haha yes! Padmé is back again, just really confuseeeed…..thanks for reviewing!

Jedi X-man Serena Kenobi: Well, almost reunited…Luke's going to have quite a situation on his hands.

TheSummoningDark: Oh thank you! I was thinking I'd get reviews saying "Well Padmé would not act in such a hysterical manner", so I'm glad everyone seems to agree with her post-carbonite condition!

JadedofMara: WHOO-HOO! Thanks so much for reviewing!

Jedi Master Arie Skywalker: Thanks a bunch!

The Chaotic Soul of Demons: Thanks! The funny thing is, I wasn't even going to add Padmé into the story until I realized…OK, Anakin and Leia have something to do…but Luke doesn't, hehe.

Second-Last Herald Mage: Yup, writing the next chapter with Padmé's reaction's should be interesting…thanks so much for your encouragement!

Fluteplayer08: Hm…perhaps. While I think both Padmé and Anakin would be overjoyed to see each other, they do have some major issues to work out P I'll keep it in mind!

Charlie Hayden: Thanks! I'm looking forward to the Padmé/Luke interactions too, I just hope I write them well enough…

Maugen Ra: Thank you so much! I hope I updated fast enough for you!

Hieiko: Well, whatever Luke tells her…it's going to have to be done in a very careful manner!

LadyAlede: Thank you so much! I know your doubts about Padmé being discovered alive. I read a lot of ehh fanfics where Padmé is resurrected, and at first I wasn't going to bring Padmé back in my story. But I realized that this would be my chance to do something awesome with Padmé, and I wanted to challenge myself and see if I was worthy. I hope I can do it!

Sentrosi: Oooh, I hope you did well on your exams! I finished mine about a month ago. As for "Lars", I checked back and you two appear to be separate entities. P

Cibbler: Haha yes, Padmé needs to be hysterical! If she were too calm that would be disturbing…hope this chapter partially answered any questions to Ani and Leia's plight…

mlhkvh5: Thank you so much, I'm so happy you liked the de-freezing scene! I've always wondered how Luke and Leia would react to Padmé if they ever met her...hope I updated fast enough!

eirene1988: Thanks very much for your kind words! Yes, 150 reviews in just 9 chapters…I've seen it before, but those are usually the PHENOMENAL fanfics that are like one in a million on I just can't believe everyone likes it so much….I'm pretty blown away! As for Luke being more powerful than Anakin…he isn't. In the first chapter, when Luke crumples the door away, Vader is just impressed that Luke can do these kinds of strenuous exercises when he's only had like, what, three months of training in a swamp. Also, if Luke seems a little more attuned to the Force than Anakin does, I figure it's because Anakin is still re-adjusting to being a good guy again. Having used the Force for evil for so long, to me it would seem like Luke would be more fluid in the Force (at this point) than Anakin because Anakin has to re-learn the "light side Force" ways. Hope that explanation made sense!

XXX: Hope I updated soon enough! Yeah, Lando and Chewie know the basics, they just don't know how deep the story really goes…

Mistery: Thanks so much!!!

Chronormu: She's aliiiiiiiiive! D

Thanks to everyone to reviewed, and to everyone reading the story in general! Please review and let me know your comments/suggestions/questions about stuff that's not clear! I want to make this story the best it can be! Happy Trails, Jedi!


	11. Introduction

Note: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 11: Introduction

by ArchFaith

At first, she could only hear muffled sounds coming from her bedside; whispered murmurings from unknown attendants gathering about her. Slight manipulations of her limbs, needles inserted into the veins and arteries on her arms; gloved hands touching her body, hovering especially over her stomach. For an eternity she drifted amongst a foggy haze; her vision was still clouded, and she could hardly see anything at all, save for brief blurs of color and shadow. Her hearing was no better; though she was able to discern voices, she could not tell what words and phrases they spoke about her.

After a time, though, the examinations had ceased; she had been left alone, placed in a quiet chamber to rest. Now she could feel the soft mattress below her, holding her lithe body as she lay still, her eyes closed in profound exhaustion.

"This woman had just given birth when she was frozen in carbonite. She is still recovering from the delivery."

She wanted to open her eyes, to observe her new surroundings; she wanted to speak, to inquire about Obi-Wan and newborn children. The last thing she remembered was speaking to Obi-Wan as she lay, shaking from the pain, in the delivery chamber; the medical droids had been holding both her children as she cried, in pain and heartache, her mind crying out to Anakin in vain. Obi-Wan had kissed her forehead, had told her everything would be alright…he said…

_When you wake up it will be a much better time._

What had he meant? As she opened her mouth to ask him, all her memory went blank, as if a sudden blanket of darkness had been thrown over her body. Though it felt like only a few minutes to her, it seemed as though it had been much longer…the next thing she knew, she was sitting up in a block of cold carbonite, drenched in steam and water, screaming for any clue as to what was going on. The only person who had seemed even remotely attentive to her had been the young man; she had not seen his face. Her eyes, it seemed, were not functioning; though she saw blurry images and shapes, she could not make out the details of her surroundings nor the people who took care of her. After a brief conversation, she had lapsed into unconsciousness once again.

"We will need to do some retinal scans, for identification purposes in the Imperial Logs…though the Emperor has been assassinated, we are still under control of the Empire."

Her hands had been folded neatly over her stomach—her now-empty womb, where her and Anakin's children had formed and grown. The twins—were they alright? The primal fear had crept into her mind as she slipped in and out of reality, her feverish dreams only augmented by the surgical instruments and tools being passed over her chest and stomach. Though she sensed that many people surrounded her, she could only make out one face—that of the young man from before, his azure eyes focused upon her form even as he was pushed out of the way by the others in their attempt to examine her. In a daze she tried to reach out to him; but her hands were still too weak, and her fingers sank back down onto the bed.

"But you don't need to perform scans on this woman…as soon as she's properly healed, you will release her without questions."

"But we don't need to perform scans on this woman…as soon as she's properly healed, we will release her without questions."

Sighing deeply, she shifted her head, suddenly feeling the heavy bacta-filled bandage that had been strapped against her eyes. As of yet, she was still too weak to move anything except her head or her fingers; she felt exceedingly weak and drained of energy. Feeling a single tear trace its way down her face, she let herself be overcome by the soft lull of sleep. As long as she slept, she reasoned, everything would be still and quiet. She would briefly forget about Obi-Wan, the twins, and Anakin…as soon as her conscious brain quieted, she could forget the trouble that had been thrust upon her. She feared the time when she would at last be strong enough to speak to her captors—to inquire about the ones dearest to her. She felt that she knew what kind of answer she would receive.

_If I am at last alone, then I must be strong._

She lay still.

-

"We found this," the medic said simply, pressing the long cylinder into Luke's hands. "It was bundled against her left calve, strapped to an old bolster."

Luke gripped the object firmly in his hands; a long metal cylinder, plain and unmarked. It was more than a little heavy at that; perhaps it was a weapon of some sort, placed upon Padmé's person in case she awoke from the carbonite to find herself in a dangerous situation. Gently the object within the cylinder shook and rattled; it was a long and heavy, and clearly took up the whole canister. Curious…a quick urge suddenly tingled up his spine, and he reached for the cylinder's metal top. But…no. This was Padmé's property, and she alone should have the privilege of opening it. She had been through enough, as it was.

His whole family had been through enough. _Anakin is sure in for a surprise…_

Sighing, he placed the canister against the low table next to the unconscious woman's bedside as the medic turned to leave. Padmé was resting now, though for several hours she had been frantic and frightened, still blind as the medics numbed her to perform various surgical procedures upon her. Other than the usual signs of hibernation sickness—loss of sight, hysteria, and other disorienting symptoms—the medics had informed him that Padmé was still recovering from a rather strenuous birth. Their radiography scans had indicated that she had given birth to two children just before she had been placed in carbonite, possibly only thirty minutes to an hour before.

_Twenty-three years later and she's recovering from myself and Leia's birth, _Luke thought, his eyes passing over the sleeping woman who was stiffly stretched out on the bed before him. After all the various tests had been performed, the medics had seen fit to give Padmé her own, small room in the clinic ward; it was a plain, sterile-looking room, with a tiled white floor and neutral gray walls. There was a small sink and mirror on the far side of the room, and a small round window opened to let in the late morning sunshine, drenching the skyscrapers of Coruscant in an unusually warm glow.

Padmé had been re-dressed, changed out of her drenched white gown into a clean, pale blue hospital dress; her curly hair had been toweled and dried, and framed her soft oval face. An out-of-place bandage covered the upper part of her face; infused with bacta ointment, the medics had professed it would help soothe her eyes, and restore her vision quickly. Beneath her blue robe, a warm healing pad had been placed against her stomach; she had still been in slight pain from the birth of her children, and a few minor injuries were quickly mended by the skilled hands of the medics.

Luke sat in the simple steel chair next to her bed, his arms crossed over his chest as his tired azure eyes watched her unconscious form. His mother…_his mother…_

What kind of coincidence was this? Perhaps the whole entire episode was a dream…from the regeneration device that had transformed Darth Vader back into Anakin Skywalker, to the discovery of his long-lost mother frozen in carbonite in the back of a junk-dealers' shop. All of it—perhaps Luke had perished in the battle of the Second Death Star, and this incredible series of events was his own version of an afterlife. Looking at the small woman who lay before him, he simply could not believe that he was staring at his own mother—the woman Anakin had talked so lovingly about in his memories, the person who had given birth to himself and to Leia. His own mother…

_Padmé…_

His hand reached out for hers; he rested his fingers against her limp hand, shaking his head in a cry of silent jubilation. She was here. She was here...he repeated the sentiment in his mind over and over again, as though he were a small child excited at its mother's return. But then again—this was exactly his own situation. For years he had imagined what his real parents had been like; as a small child, he had often imagined Anakin to be a heroic adventurer, as small boys were prone to idolizing their fathers. He had thought about his mother as well, but his images of her were always warm, and gentle; he had always thought of her as a kind, mild woman, a complete opposite to his childlike fantasies of his father. Now he would finally see if his dreams had been correct.

_But what will I tell her? _he thought quickly. That her dear husband had become one of the most hated men in the galaxy? That her children were now grown adults, and had been separated to hide them from their father? And that Obi-Wan, her benefactor and self-proclaimed godfather of her children—that he was dead?

To his sudden surprise, Padmé's fingers gently flexed against his own as the woman shifted slightly in the bed, her gown rustling against her exhausted body as her mouth frowned expressively. Her breathing, which had been so soft and calm before, now came quicker and more alert; with a slight groan, she jerked her hand away from Luke's and absently brought it to her stomach. It seemed that she had awoken; though he could not see her eyes from under her heavy bandage, he knew that they were surely open.

Luke froze, momentarily, as he watched her stretch slightly, her body lengthening out as if it had not moved on its own for quite some time. He was not yet prepared; no, he did yet know what to tell her. He needed more time to think, more time to plan and strategize how he would break the news to her. Not now…but it was too late. She was already awake, and to leave her in the dark now would only be cruel. Well…fate had indeed thrown him a tangled knot. He would have to weave his way out of it.

She opened her mouth, as if testing out her vocal cords. In a few moments a labored, simple sentence emerged.

"May I have some water?" she croaked, her voice cracked and dry-sounding. This was followed by a few quick coughs. _Why did I have to wake? _she asked herself as her conscious mind slowly turned itself on, flooding the corridors of her brain with the infuriating questions that had filled her brain ever since she had found herself in the steaming room full of assistants and medics. At least, when she had been sleeping, there was no way of discovering the responses to her queries; as much as she wanted to know their answers, she would rather never hear them than have her worst fears realized.

Luke stood awkwardly; like an automaton, he slowly crossed the room to the small basin equipped to the wall in the corner. There were some paper cups in a small holder to the right of the basin; he quickly filled one with cool water from the faucet, and brought it back to the bed.

Padmé had propped herself up by her hands; she was now sitting up in the bed, her expression neutral as Luke gently placed the cup in her hands. "Here," he said mildly, steadying the cup in her still shaking fingers.

Padmé nodded and raised the cup to her mouth, gulping the few ounces of water within with a thirsty sigh. "Thank you," she said simply, giving him the empty container.

Luke nodded back, forgetting for an instant that she could not see his face. "You're welcome," he said after a few seconds' pause.

For a few moments there was a silent lull that descended upon the room; Luke was still silently calculating his course of action when Padmé took the opportunity into her own hands. As confused and injured as she was, she was ever the diplomat; if she did not take charge of the situation, it would soon come to control her. Still…this was difficult. Though her mind was full of questions and horrified half-conclusions, she had to feel her way around this if she was going to make any sense of it. Yet…she sensed that this man, whomever he was, was not going to harm her. In a strange way she felt a sort of familiarity with him, as if she had known him from before; though she could see his face yet, his presence was mildly soothing to her troubled mind. Still, she could not lie back and simply trust him; she would have to keep her guard up for a time longer.

"Please help me take his bandage off."

She heard a rustling noise next to her, and then felt gentle hands near the back of her head, resting against her tangled curls as the plastic closures on the back were snapped out of place. With a sigh, the bandage slid off her eyes; the sudden coolness of the room surprised her. The bacta had been so warm and neutralizing that she suddenly felt naked without it; nevertheless, she was sure that she would be regain her vision completely within a few hours. Perhaps even sooner than that—looking over at her unnamed companion, she could just make out the oval shape of his face, the dark blonde hair tapering against his head and shoulders. Luke looked back at her with a warm expression; her liquid brown eyes had clearly been bestowed upon Leia. Seeing her face reminded him of his sister, far away and quite oblivious on Endor, or so he thought.

"What is your name?" she asked quietly.

Struck by the simplicity of the question, Luke was caught quite off guard. He hesitated for a few minutes, entertaining the idea of giving her a false name to soften the blow later on. But he quickly decided against this; he could not lie to her if she wanted the truth.

"My name is Luke," he replied.

Padmé's ears perked at the sound of the familiar name; her newborn son's name. She had attempted to stifle her thoughts about her children for the time being, for her own sanity. But this man had the same name as her son…the child she had not even gotten a chance to hold yet—him and Leia. Where were they? _Where are my children?!_

Forcing herself to calmness, she continued on. "Luke…" she began, nodding. "Where am I?"

"You're in a medical facility, in a wing of a carbonite thawing center," he answered.

_Carbonite-thawing…_well, she had suspected as much. The cold slab of metal she had awoken in, the steam drenching her body and clothes…

"What planet am I on?"

"Coruscant."

She again nodded; the sound of a familiar name, at least.

"Will you tell me—how long have I been encased in the carbonite?" Surely not more than a few days…perhaps a month, at least. Obi-Wan must have placed her there to protect her; he knew that she had been heartbroken and distressed beyond belief. Perhaps he had encased her in carbonite to safely transport her back to Naboo—if Anakin had been searching for her, the last place he would look would be a cargo ship stocked with carbonite. Always the practical thinker. Obi-Wan…

She did not hear a response; only a quiet rustling of fabrics, and the muffled sounds of his body shifting uncomfortably in his seat. She frowned, wishing that she could more clearly make out the man's expression. "I'll repeat my question. How long have I been in the carbonite?"

Luke creased his eyebrows. "For a very long time," he replied cryptically. When she spoke, she had such an authoritative intonation in her voice that he was compelled to answer.

She again frowned. "That's not the answer I want to hear," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. It was rather cool in the small room; she felt around for the blanket that covered her legs, and attempted to bring it over her lap. Luke rose, and in a moment she felt his hands tucking the blanket around her body. "You've been kind to me, Luke, but I want to know the truth. How long?"

He sighed. Fine, then…she would have to hear the truth, the hard way. It would be so painful for her to hear, but she wanted to know the facts. Silently resolving that he would be there to guide her through, he took one instant to prepare himself before he spoke again. However, he was unprepared for the sudden tightness that took hold of him, a small sentiment that indicated that she could not know precisely how many years it had been. This would shock her too much; no, she must be told other things first, to ready her for the final blow. If only there could have been some other way to go about it; if only Obi-Wan were still alive, as the presence of a familiar being would calm her and soften the shock. However…so be it. She had to know the truth, and Luke would be the messenger.

"I must tell you that Obi-Wan is no longer with us," he began slowly, thinking back on Obi-Wan's ghostly figure, glistening in the swamps of Dagobah.

"What?" she asked immediately, unable to contain her confusion. "Surely that's not true…that's impossible. You must be lying to me," she said, in a tempered voice. No…it had to be a trap. Yes, perhaps she had been intercepted by Palpatine's forces while she had been in carbonite; Palpatine was trying to confuse and mislead her, trying to make her believe that Obi-Wan Kenobi had perished. Obi-Wan was one of the most skilled knights of the Jedi Order; it would take no less than a legion of starships to destroy him! He couldn't be dead…

"Padmé," Luke whispered, unsure of what to say next. "This is hard for you to hear…but what I'm telling you is the truth. Obi-Wan was killed while battling the forces of the Empire."

She again shook her head, feeling the tears well up beneath her eyelashes as she lowered her head. "I refuse to believe that," she asserted, her hands tightening into fists as she thought back on the events at Mustafar. After she had collapsed, Obi-Wan had taken to her Polis Massa, holding her hand and looking after her as her labor pains began to increase. Even in the months before, as Anakin had drifted towards the Dark Side, Obi-Wan had stepped in to comfort and assist her in her hours of greatest need. To be told that he was dead…after she had seemingly only seen him a few hours before…

"If Obi-Wan is dead, what about my children?" she countered, a spiteful tone in her voice. "Are you going to tell me they're dead, as well?"

"No," Luke answered, leaning forwards. "Your children are not dead. They're alive and safe…both of them."

"Where are they, then?"

Luke hesitated, visibly; though Padmé could not see his features clearly, she could hear his quickened breath, his struggling words. "Your daughter Leia is on Endor," he said quietly.

"Endor?" she asked, in an incredulous tone. Oh, this was too much. Whomever was lying to her was doing a poor job of it. Palpatine would have to be scolded for his choice of lackeys. "I suppose you'll be telling me that Ewoks are looking after her, then."

"I know this all sounds ridiculous, but you have to let me explain."

She shifted slightly, her brown curls running against her shoulders as she brought a hand behind her head, feeling the space were the bandage had left a slight impression against her hair. "If Leia's on Endor, then I guess Luke must be on Kashyyyk." Her sarcastic tone, angry as it was, also carried a hint of weariness.

Luke cocked his head; though Padmé was not Force-sensitive, it seemed like he could still feel certain emotions from her as he could from Anakin. Perhaps this was due to the fact that Padmé had been carrying the children of one of the most powerful Jedi of all time; he and Leia had certainly developed Anakin's own Force potential. Padmé might have possibly absorbed the midichlorians present in their own small bodies, while they grew inside her. Whatever the reason, Padmé had now assumed a cold, inquisitive nature; almost as soon as she had awoken, she had tried to take control of her situation. Like Leia, she was not a damsel in distress, waiting to be rescued—once the means were available to her, she could do the best she could to take advantage.

Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do in this situation.

"Tell me," she continued, in a slightly lowered tone of voice. "If you can…who is taking care of my son and daughter?"

She was still under the impression that perhaps only a few days had passed since she had given birth to her twins; still, Luke could not try to deceive her by running with this falsehood. He had dodged her questions well, but he had done nothing to outright disprove her beliefs; he had been trying to gently ease her into the truth, by working small details and trivial statements into their conversation. But it could not continue like this forever; Padmé was not a dead spirit, condemned to a memory. She was discovered alive, and was now sitting before him in consternation; his mother. _My mother…_

"Leia," he began almost wistfully, "can take pretty good care of herself at this point. Otherwise I take care of her myself…or she takes care of me."

His cryptic speech only served to frustrate Padmé even further. She sat up, enraged beyond words at his outright flagrance of her two dear children. _The nerve! _she thought quickly, her noble-born mind twisting in fury at his riddles. It was as if this complete stranger was treating her plight as some sort of sick joke; Obi-Wan was supposedly dead, and her children were now separated from her. And this man only continued to spin his lies; weak as she was, she quickly sat up and gripped the sides of the bed with her weak fingers, a scandalized look upon her face.

"And just who are you?" she demanded, lowering her voice to a deadly whisper.

He paused an instant, letting the tension and animosity in the air swirl around their two bodies, enveloping the room in a kind of expectant mist as the woman's hoarse breathing penetrated the silence around them.

"I'm Luke," he repeated, suddenly feeling his eyes watering as soon as the words tumbled off his tongue.

"Luke?" she said brokenly, trying to focus in on his face now. "Luke?"

Somehow, it all came together—all the small details, all the sneaking suspicions, all the various fears and visions in her mind congealed to force her heart to accept. No, she could not have been frozen in carbonite for so long! So long…

She could see more clearly now; her vision was not perfect, but the features were less murky before her eyes. The sterile-looking room, bare and generic; the white bed on which she lay, dressed in a thin blue hospital gown; the man sitting before her, in a straight-backed steel chair, hands crossed over his chest in a sort of self-protective gesture. As if she were about to hurt him…as if she had that power…

He had dark blonde hair, cut close to his face; his tanned skin, smooth as it was, still carried some hints of former scarring across his attractive face. Dressed all in black, with black gloves covering his hands as well…and bright azure eyes, those eyes…

With all the sudden possibilities spilling into her mind, she froze for what seemed like an eternity; she swallowed purposely, wetting her tongue as she wrenched her eyes from his observant gaze. What had been done here? What kind of plan did Obi-Wan have in mind when he gave the order for her to be frozen in carbonite? Had all this been for the best, or…

A sudden muffled noise from outside the room suddenly snapped her back to reality. Though the door was closed, the sudden creaking of a large piece of machinery was heard traveling slowly down the hallway outside; though the sound appeared to be far-off, it was steadily approaching, no doubt heading for a marked destination.

Bringing a quick hand to his face, Luke managed to wipe all traces of emotion from his countenance. Any small bursts of emotion would only serve to distress Padmé even more; and they could not afford to reveal themselves to these engineers. The thawing facility was still under the control of the Empire, though Palpatine had been destroyed; it would be best to avoid Imperial presence. Though Luke could use his mind tricks to an extent, it would be better if he did not have to use them at all—not until he and Padmé were safely away, at any rate.

He quickly stood up, and in a moment had placed both his hands on Padmé's now-shaking shoulders. "I know you're confused," he said quickly, his eyes darting from her to the closed door, and back again. "I'll explain everything later…I promise. But please…these people cannot be trusted. At any minor recollection from you, they'll turn us both in to the remnants of the Empire."

Padmé nodded, her mind swimming with new information. Remnants of the Empire? The last she remembered, Palpatine's organization was a mere faction…just what kind of danger were they in, anyway? And this man, with his azure eyes…

"You must not tell them anything," Luke continued, giving Padmé's shoulders an absent squeeze. "Tell them you've lost your memory…that you can't remember a thing. They'll release you to me if you pretend to have amnesia."

She looked to him again, her liquid brown eyes studying his familiar face. She knew she had seen his face before, long ago; it was familiar to her, yet she felt as if she had only seen it for a few seconds before it vanished into the recesses of her mind…

The creaking noise continued down the hallway, followed by the footsteps of a few pairs of boot-clad feet. The medics, along with one of their medical droids…

Seeing the indecision in her face, Luke quietly sighed. "Please," he said again, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I've waited so long to finally meet you." His voice wavered as he spoke to her, looked into her dark brown eyes as he recalled the dreamy memory of a gentle touch, a tear-stained face. "Anakin will be here soon," he added, remembering the seemingly-distant misadventures on the Death Star and Endor. "He and I…we have a lot to tell you."

The footsteps echoed outside the door now; a metallic clang was heard, and a few muffled voices began conversing as one of the medics pushed the correct code into the keypad mounted to the front of the door.

Padmé looked back into Luke's eyes, the tears gathering around her eyelashes as her mouth quivered with a sudden outburst of emotion.

"Alright," she agreed, with a slow nod; a sudden compulsion took hold of her, and she reached out to give Luke a tender embrace as the electronic beeps of the number pad slowly combined to form one fluid sequence.

"You will have to tell me everything," she whispered, burying her tear-stained eyes against Luke's quivering shoulder.

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: As Luke and Padmé stuggle to keep themselves hidden from Imperial remnants on Coruscant, Anakin and Leia are still in for some trouble of their own. Exhausted, nearly powerless, and dependent on the charity of some mysterious strangers, how will father and daughter cope in their harsh environment? Poor little Artoo! Stay tuned!

End notes: I hope you all enjoyed this reunion chapter. It was a really hard chapter for me to write, honestly! Padmé is a character that I was not originally planning to bring into this story; but after thinking about it a little more, I thought that having her in the story would place a new depth into the relationships between each of the characters. I find it hard to write from her perspective though! I guess this chapter was awkward to write because the conversations and feelings themselves are supposed to feel awkward, but I hope you all think it was alright. Please tell me any thoughts you have, any suggestions for me, and any other comments about the plot, characterizations, etc. I want this fanfic to be the best it can be, and I need your help!!

VFSNAKE: Hehe, well, I just write Leia as I feel how Leia would really act in a situation like that. As for the near-death experience she should have, the explosion aboard the shuttle was supposed to be like that, with Anakin proving that he does care about Leia and wants to protect her.

ILDV: Hmm, Chewbacca siding with Anakin? Maaaaaybe…pictures Chewie giving Anakin a huge bear hug That would be a great scene!!! Thanks for the idea!

Jedi Master Arie Skywalker: Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm so glad you like it; I was so nervous writing this fic, hoping that I wouldn't ruin my favorite characters by writing them incorrectly!

TheSummoningDark: Ha! Sounds like something Padmé would do! But you know, those two lovebirds…I love Anakin and Padmé together. They're not quite as fluid or chemical as Han and Leia, however…

Sonseeahray: Thank you so much! I love Leia, and I tried to capture her emotions in a canon way. I've just read way too many stories were Leia acts in a totally OOC way, and I really wanted to avoid that.

Charlie Hayden: I hope you liked this Luke/Padmé chapter then! They're a bit more toned-down than the Anakin/Leia dynamic, but there's still plenty to write about them spending time together.

Sentrosi: Oh, I see! Nope, Lars was just another reviewer, who coincidentally had the same name you had!

JadedofMara: Haha yup! Luke gets to tell Padmé alright…yeesh, that's not a task I would want. Glad you liked Leia's dialogue!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Ah, finally someone notices Artoo! I feel bad that I can't write Artoo as I can write the others, since Artoo doesn't speak. I want to have an Artoo-centric section somewhere in this fanfic though, if I can fit in it!

DanaeMariSkywalker: Hehe, I didn't quite get to the meat of the "revelation"; Padmé has a vague idea of what's going on, but Luke's shielding her so she won't get too upset! Thank you so much for reviewing!

Beth Weasley: Oh Anakin…Hayden Christensen is such a pretty pretty boy. Still, I think ANH Mark Hamill is my favorite SW boy; Luke was so cute back when he was just a farmboy. Thanks a bunch for reviewing!

The Chaotic Soul of Demons: Yeah, I think that from now on, each chapter will be devoted solely to one part of the story arcs. Does better to advance things, I think! Thanks for reviewing this chapter!!

elven-cat2: Hm, the EU powers? See, I'm not really much of an EU person, so thanks for clearing this up for me. I guess that's a discrepancy I'll just have to overlook for now. Hehe, "Force speed"…it's like a cheesy X-Men move or something….

Cibbler: I'm glad you like my story…thanks a bunch for the encouragement!

Padmé Amaidala N. Skywalker: I'm trying my best, your highness!!

XXX: Haha! Han, Lando, and Chewie have officially become the comic reliefs. Along with Threepio, a great combination!!

Rinter: I'm glad you're enjoying this! I love when people leave multiple reviews as they go along, it gives a good sense of how they're enjoying the story! Thanks for letting me know that not everything was completely corny…yeah, I thought that maybe shoving both Dex and Watto into the same scene might be a bit clunky, but I needed a way for Luke to discover Padmé…it was the only thing I came up with! Thanks for reviewing!!

SOONsoonSOON: I love your username, my friend. And I will try to fulfill your wishes, as fast as I can, promise!

Alright folks! Please help a poor fanfic writer out with your reviews...I'd like to hear everyone's opinions on this, and try to incorporate some new ideas in with my own! Feel the Force!!!


	12. Surroundings

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 12: Surroundings

by ArchFaith

The inside of the long corridor was dimly-lit with a series of holo-globes, perched upon the grimy, narrow walls like primitive lanterns of ages past. The walls, like the outside of the building itself, were also constructed of white chrome, though it was not even a quarter as clean as the glistening surface outside. As soon as Artoo's metals wheels had rolled in through the small door, the gate shut behind them; the cold whistling of the snow and wind now grew muffled and distant, and a quick, dusky scent arose from the floor and walls around them. The place was dry, and relatively warm; though still considered cold by normal standards, it was infinitely more tolerable than the blinding storm they had come in from.

_There are rumors circulating about a smuggler's outpost in the Hoth system, _Leia said wordlessly, tapping into Anakin's mind as the three continued down the corridor. _I wonder if we've stumbled upon their nest. I've no doubt we're on Hoth now._

Father and daughter's gloved hands had still been entwined in each other as they had walked inside; now, however, Leia slowly disengaged her fingers from his. Drawing her arms close about her, she readied herself for any split-second action they might have to make. Her assault blaster, tucked beneath the heavy white parka she wore, still had plenty of power cells to take out a fair amount of possible adversaries. Leia had previously trained with long blasters and other weapons, back when she had been a young woman on Alderaan; offensive techniques had been just as much a part of a princess's upbringing as music lessons or etiquette classes.

_The Empire knew about such a facility, _Anakin replied, giving Leia a thoughtful glance. _We never investigated…it was not one of the Emperor's pressing matters._

_Perhaps it's a good thing the Empire never did. Then this place would have been raided and abandoned, and it would not be here for us now._

Immediately sensing Leia's heightened tension, Anakin himself prepared for whatever onslaught they might face once they reached the end of the long corridor. The sounds of the sleet and snow outside now seemed distant; as they advanced down the long hall, new, man-made noises echoed against through the walls. As it was, the walls around the corridor were probably constructed of durable insulation steel; such metal retained warmth, and did not allow cool air to pass through. Once they cleared this protective area, however, there was no telling who or what they would run into. It was clear that these people, whomever they were, were not a legitimate organization; this was clear from the brief vision he had seen, gleaned from his intense Force focusing techniques. He and Leia would have to act accordingly.

After a few minutes of walking down the long, dim tunnel, they found themselves standing in front of an old, beaten door, dirty from grease and rust. Anakin frowned, and turned back to Leia with an upturned brow.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded. "Now or never," she replied, a determined look set upon her face. From behind them, Artoo uttered a low beep; he too was willing to help them out, even if his range of motion was quite limited compared to theirs.

"Alright…cover me," he said quickly, as his hand reached out to push the door open with a gentle swing.

-

Whatever they had been expecting, this was surely not it.

The door opened upon a small, dim chamber, quite matching with the ambience of the previous corridor. However, the room was not empty; not in the least. Two or three dark figures stood against the wall, outlined by the glistening shadows of the hologlobes mounted on the wall. At the sound of their entrance one of the figures had looked up; motioning to its companions, all three beings straightened, growing defensive and alert as Anakin and Leia entered the chamber.

Anakin scowled immediately; he picked up vague feelings of hostility from these people, but nothing overtly malevolent. If he and Leia played it right, they would surely escape this situation without injury. Still, one could not let their guard down; quickly assuming an air of confidence, he narrowed his eyes as the three figures stepped forward. Leia, who had been walking directly behind him, also stiffened at their sudden appearance; adopting a haughty look upon her face, she absently placed a hand against Anakin's arm as one of the figures stepped out of the shadows.

"I've been expecting you," it said in a smooth, female voice. It had been the same voice that had addressed them earlier, through the speaker mounted on the walls outside. "I hope you do not mind our little escort here."

The woman stepped forward, one hand confidently placed on her slender hips as a smile formed upon her thin red mouth. Though she at first appeared to be human, upon coming into the dim light her true features were more clearly visible. Her skin was chalk-white, paler even than the snow-covered plains beyond; her head was large and bald, except for a long topknot of red hair that jutted out of the back of her head. Though she donned a black parka which partially obscured her clothing, she did not appear to be wearing much underneath; her slender legs were outfitted in red leggings, and she donned long boots which looked to be more useful for running than for harsh weather. When she smiled, slight wrinkles formed around the naturally darkened skin around her eyes; though she was definitely not a young woman, she still seemed slender and athletic.

And familiar, in a disturbing sort of way. To Anakin, she seemed merely a ghost of a figure he had barely seen, more than thirty years ago, standing at the edge of a rusty bridge, overlooking the Boonta Eve Classic as he and Sebulba had clattered by. To Leia, however, her face merely read one emotion.

Death.

"Aurra Sing. Welcome to my facility," the woman said simply, eyeing the two figures who stood before her. "And you are?"

Aurra Sing. Impossible…no, this woman could not surely be…

"I am Ani Naberrie," Anakin said quickly, carrying on the alias he had used before, with the Alliance. Even as he spoke, he felt a cool rush of blood against his veins, as though his body was mobilizing for defense. _Sing…it could not truly be you..._

Flashes...rumors...half-heard discussions from so long ago, between various Jedi Masters within the temple on Coruscant…the name, the face, and the fleeting vision from the podrace…too coincidental. Out of all the deadly forces in the galaxy, Sing?

Sing did not seem to notice Anakin's silent reverie. "And your woman here?" she asked, angling her head towards Leia.

The princess scowled, but brushed off the minor insult with a toss of her brown hair. "My name is Winter Antilles," she answered simply. Of course there could have been better alias to come up with, given the situation; this combination of familiar names, however, had been the first to come to mind.

Sing nodded nonchalantly. "I asked you once before, and I will ask again. What is your business here?"

Anakin grimaced. "And I answered."

_She is one of the most dangerous hunters in the galaxy…no less than five Jedi have died at her hands,_ he said inwardly, directing his thoughts towards Leia. _She has been underground for years now…so this is where she went._

_This is the first time I've seen her face._ He immediately felt Leia shoot him an annoyed glance. _I know who she is. The Alliance was tracking her a few years ago, but we lost contact of her._

Sing raised her hands in a slight frustrated gesture, and the two other figures stepped out of the darkness to join her. Squat, obese, and pig-faced—Gamorreans. Armed with large blasters and heavy shield armor, they waddled forth to join the devious bounty hunter.

The princess's lower lip quivered; this was not the time for one of Anakin's rash mistakes. Though she had a better understanding of his personality at this point—basically, that the two shared the same darker tendencies and violent methods of problem-solving—she and Anakin were not clones of each other. Though he possessed a cool confidence that could dominate in many situations, Anakin's rashness would only lead to trouble in delicate conditions. Silently she emerged from behind Anakin, her eyes steady with Sing's as she crossed her arms over her chest. So be it, then; if Anakin was to play the role of protector, she would play the negotiator.

"You should know what's going on right now, Sing. You're a hunter, as we are," she began, in a confident yet subordinate tone of voice. The old proverb was indeed correct; she and Anakin would have to assume the guise of bounty hunters to overcome the extreme situation they now found themselves in.

"You two are hunters?" Sing inquired, placing a hand on her hip. "It seems like anyone with a ship and a blaster claims to be hunting bounties these days."

Anakin flashed her a defiant look as Leia ignored her slight. "You've heard about the money on the Rebel leaders on Endor, haven't you?" she asked, lowering her voice to a merely inquisitive tone.

"I have," Sing answered. "Let me guess…on your way to make some acquisitions?"

Leia nodded, a thin smile on her face. "Precisely. We had it all wrapped up, but…one of our rivals sabotaged our engine before we left. So…here we are."

"I see," the woman said, a devious smile playing on her face. "Just the two of you? You would not have made a single dent on one of their X-Wings." She uttered a low, sarcastic giggle. "You have never visited this facility before?"

Leia shook her head. "Just haven't had time to drop by."

"Well, you were lucky then. Lucky to be alive as well." With a quick point of her fingers, the grimy-looking guards moved towards Anakin and Leia, their rotten mouths uttering some kind of unintelligible language. "I want your blasters," she said smoothly as the guards stopped in front of them. "A small price to pay for being let in out of the cold. And do not pretend you do not have them."

Anakin briefly contemplated taking his blaster out gently, only to fire it upon the two guards and Sing before they knew what was going on; still, what good would that do? Even if he was capable of doing so, Sing had indicated that she was in charge of the facility they found themselves in; killing her would possibly incite the wrath of those within, no matter how rough and insolent they seemed.

With a frustrated sigh, Anakin pulled the blaster out of his concealed holster, shoving it roughly towards the guard as Leia gently removed her own blaster from its holster. The guards quickly grabbed the blasters from their hands, leaving trails of grease against the barrels as they placed the blasters into a large brown sack that one had tied to his belt. "You will receive them once you leave," Sing said, smiling. "If you ever do." She turned, and motioned for the pair to follow them down the length of the corridor. "Come. I will show you my facility."

The guards, one of them armed with the awkward brown sack, ambled ahead of her down the dim hallway, their fat legs moving like great tree-trunks within a sentient forest. Sing followed, her hands crossed over her chest as she gracefully advanced after them.

_So we're bounty hunters now?_ Anakin asked, as he and Leia warily followed after the entourage.

_Have to fit in with the crowd,_ Leia answered grimly, reluctantly feeling her empty holster. _Aurra Sing…I never would have guessed that she would be the force behind this scumhole._

"You two seem a bit green," Sing commented, as the unlikely party continued down the dark corridor, which was slowly widening into a passageway. "Taking on the Rebels on Endor by yourselves…suicide sounds like a better description."

"You could say we're ambitious," Anakin answered, in a tempered tone of voice. "Our ambition is what took us to your facility in the first place."

Sing smiled, her thin red mouth forming a crooked line against her white face. "Ambition only takes one so far," she commented. "In any case, you have surely heard about this base before."

"Whispers and snatches, here and there," Leia answered. "You've had control of this place for a while, haven't you?"

Sing cocked her head triumphantly. "A good hunter takes the opportunity when she sees it. Despite the Empire coming in to sack the place before, they left a lot of important things behind when they destroyed Echo Base."

_Echo Base._ Of course…Leia had known from the moment she had laid eyes on the structure that it had been part of the base that she had helped to establish on Hoth, nearly two years before. In the battle against the Empire, it had been almost totally demolished; reports tallied that the Empire had opted to take most of the remaining Rebel supplies for their own usage. They had destroyed of the base, but part of it—mostly underground—had remained.

_I saw no reason to totally destroy it,_ Anakin interjected, as Leia realized that he had been tuning into her thoughts once again. Even now, as they cooperated and worked together to survive, Anakin was still Vader to her; the same man who had hunted down the base on Hoth so many months before. _My objectives were, at that point, complete._

_Thank you for your consideration,_ she answered, some of her icy coldness returning. _I am sure Sing took advantage of the viable parts of the base, quite to her profit._

As if on cue, Sing spoke again. "I think you will find my base comfortable; but children like yourselves should be careful."

"And why is that? Who exactly do you allow here?" Anakin asked, in spite of himself. He received a tired mental warning from Leia, a sudden feeling that caused him to turn and stare at her with a hint of annoyance.

_Just like Luke,_ she said, her reddened eyes narrowing as they walked along. _You were the one who told me we had to feel our way through this._

"Most of those here are hunters, as I am," Sing continued, exuding the feeling that she was quite well aware of just how inept father and daughter would be at the actual profession of the hunt. "I have recently allowed a few smugglers to take up temporary residence…Hoth is rich in many different types of minerals. It would be a shame to let all this profit go to waste…though I prefer the sport more than the profit."

"If you enjoying making acquisitions more than maintaining facilities, why did you establish this base in the first place?" Anakin again questioned, despite Leia's vain, wordless attempts to stifle his curiosity.

"We all enjoy going underground sometimes," Sing replied, blinking her large eyes with a deliberate slowness. "Hunting does have its tiresome moments. I heard of the lost Rebel base on Hoth and perceived it to be a good place for…making arrangements."

They had been walking steadily for a few minutes down the now-wide passageway; the Gamorreans ambled before them, the metal bracelets against their feet clanking against their hardened ankles as they grunted, talking in an indecipherable tongue. Sing confidently followed them, her long fingers now hanging limply at her sides as she seemed to glide across the floor. Leia had quickened her pace, and was now walking next to Anakin, their eyes furtively glancing to each other's face as they silently communicated, planning and strategizing their next moves. Bringing up the rear of the parade was Artoo; quite forgotten during the prior conversation, the small droid had resolved to listen and observe as best he could. The only thing he could not understand, though, was how the secret base had eluded his scanning sensors for so long; perhaps the place had some of cloaking device. He would have to disable this device before they left…

It was not long before the party arrived before a large chrome door, nearly three meters tall and twice as wide. Sing moved forwards, arriving at a small panel built into the side of the wall. As she quickly punched a code into the number panel, the door seemed to fade into a transparent mist; the solid material seemed to fall away, leaving a sort of dissipated steam in its place as new, stronger sounds of clanking metal and buzzing instruments echoed from beyond. The Gamorreans proceeded forward, unimpressed by the technology; Sing turned to Anakin and Leia with a smile.

"Welcome to Echo Base," she said, motioning them forwards. "I hope that one day you will be able to leave it."

-

It was the huge hangar Anakin had seen before, in his desperate mental bid to gain an estimate of the place; a cavernous room with white walls that had been insulated to protect against the extreme weather outside. Despite the precautions, however, it was still chillingly cold within the large chamber; various people scurried about, all dressed in heavy parkas and hats as they scampered in between the small ships that had been haphazardly parked within the hangar. Vessels of all kinds filled the interior of the hangar; everything from beat-up old ships in worse repair than the Falcon to one-person seaters smaller than an X-wing. Dozens of ships swamped the landing space, all populated with crew of some sort; those who were not hurrying to load their illegal goods into hidden cargo spaces milled about, gathering around overturned tables and stools to conduct various games of chance.

It was an odd population; some of the pilots appeared to be clean and well-dressed, and would not have looked out of place in a high society party thrown on Coruscant. Others however, allowed their appearance to reflect their sordid state; dressed in wine-stained shirts and trousers, some smoked a few death sticks as others carted stolen droid parts, digging into the wires and metal parts as they bragged about their cargo.

"This is the main hangar," Sing said simply, gesturing towards the mass of activity with a slender arm. "Echo is separated into many different areas—there are sections for auctioning, dealing, eating, sleeping…" She yawned, and threw back her hands in a bored gesture. "I'm sure you'll find your way around, being the experienced hunters that you are." At this point she muttered something to the guards in an unintelligible language; the Gamorreans immediately turned and made an effort to bow, their fat legs unable to bend before they straightened up and trotted away, the sack with the blasters still in one's grubby arms.

Leia stared, her eyes cold. So this was what had become of the Rebel's Echo Base—the project they had worked so hard to complete for all those years after the Battle of Yavin. To see it turned into a den for bounty hunters and smugglers; she cringed inwardly, witnessing the various sights and activities of the people involved with the place. Two young Twi'lek girls were being herded onto a small ship by a smiling old man; in another corner, two young women argued over a pile of death sticks. A plastic tarp had been laid over the floor a few paces away from where they had entered the hangar; there was a humanoid-sized shape underneath.

"Thanks," Anakin said curtly, nodding to Sing. She rewarded him with a sly grin.

"You're welcome," she answered. "Though I do not know if wasting my resources to rescue two wanderers was a wise decision to make." With a short sigh, she turned away from them. Without another word, she had slowly slid into the mass of people, her slender legs stepping through the filth and grime as the crowd parted to make way for her. Though Anakin could not read her thoughts as he could to another Jedi, he had sensed a fierce restlessness within her; Sing had once been one of the powerful assassins in the galaxy, favored by big-time criminals and noblemen alike. In hiding, it seemed, her former ferocity had been stifled; she seemed weary of this entire escapade, but seemed unwilling to leave it for the time being.

"Well," he began, turning back to Leia.

Still staring at the various depravities that had been introduced to her former base, the princess turned back to him with a serious eye. "At least we're here," she said simply, a frown upon her face. "We need to find a communicator that will transmit off-planet messages…we should inform Luke what's happened to us."

"I'm sure he'll be pleased," the former Sithlord answered, a tired grin playing on his place. "He's probably concerned as it is." Behind him, Artoo beeped furiously; it had been the only time the droid had ventured to speak since they had happened upon Aurra Sing. Of course Luke would be worried, it mused; having helped Luke on so many on his missions—as well as being his only companion besides Yoda on Dagobah—Artoo had gained quite a deep understanding of Luke's mental processes.

_How much money do you have on you?_ Leia asked suddenly. Her sudden switch from speaking to merely thinking mildly surprised Anakin; so, she was learning when to speak and when to communicate without words.

_Just a few thousand,_ Anakin answered gravely. When he had emerged from the regeneration device only a few days before, he had been reborn into the world with nothing; everything that had been provided for him had been procured by Luke's watchful gestures. The clothes he wore, his supplies, and the money to be used for emergency purposes. And Artoo, of course.

Leia sighed. _I have a bit more than that, but not much,_ she answered. _I'm sure none of these deadbeats are going to let us use their communications for free._ She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest in exhaustion. "I'm not even sure I can negotiate any further," she continued, choosing to pronounce her words aloud.

"There has to be somewhere to stay around here," Anakin said reflectively, putting a hand on his hip. Perhaps resting would be a better course of action for now; though they were still left with no means of communication to Luke, it would be no use speaking to him if they could not even summon up the strength to tell him what was going on. Yes; perhaps recharging was in order here. Sleep was not a thing he would object to…

A couple of the rough-looking men had stopped their gambling and drinking, and now looked over to Leia with an interested eye. Noticing their glances, Leia scowled and turned to Anakin with a haughty look set upon her face. "This is humiliating," she said, lowering her head as the men's smiles only deepened in imagination.

"I'm sure Han would be jealous," Anakin shot back, unable to offer her any sympathy. As it was, he too was exhausted; his temper ran short, and already he felt his senses dulled as Artoo pulled up next to them.

"Come on," he said, in a slightly frustrated tone. "Sing said there was some sort of barracks around here. Unless you want to ask a friendly local here, we need to find it ourselves."

Leia nodded. "Let's go, then," she said, her voice wispy as she looked over to the far side of the hangar. There was a small corridor on the far side of the cavernous room which looked relatively quiet; though people still entered and emerged from the long hallway, it definitely seemed like a more quiet alternative to the noisy hangar. "That might be it. There's only one way to find out."

"Come," Anakin said simply. Leia nodded, and the two started their brisk walk through the maze of ships and stirring people; many stopped what they were doing, laying their heavy cargo down as the pair and their droid moved through the throng. Though father and daughter did not resemble each other, their family's penchant for good looks was apparent; though Leia was sure that most of the smugglers and hunters were observing her, she knew that Anakin too was receiving a good bit of attention.

Anakin, too, could feel the interest and curiosity emanating from the group; in a second, he looped his arm around Leia's shoulder, pulling her close to him as they continued to walk.

_What are you doing?_ she asked, her face crushed next to the soft fabric of his parka as they stepped over the various drugs and bottles that had been scattered against the cold metal floor.

_You said you were humiliated earlier,_ he answered, giving her a faint grin as several scruffy-looking men scowled, turning back to their business as Anakin gave them sharp looks. _I'll try to fix that._

_How very kind of you, Vader,_ she answered, frowning into his jacket.

Apparently, the sight of two newcomers was news enough to set the facility afire; as the whispers and snickers multiplied, springing from dirty, parched lips that that had not uttered a single kind word in years, the denizens of the hangar had all come out to play. A group of older Twi'lek males, in particular, seemed to be setting their sights on Leia; the fact that she was accompanied by a man her age was no hindrance to them. One greasy-looking Twi'lek, his ripped, scratched lekku draped around his shoulders, smiled as he ambled up to the pair in a drunken swagger.

"Beautiful woman," he commented, narrowing his eyes as his pupils roved over Leia's covered-up body. Leia responded with a scowl, though even her angry glare was nowhere as severe as Anakin's grimace. Still—they could not allow themselves to be distracted like this. The scum of the galaxy, speaking to a princess as such—well, they could not afford to be angry. The two continued walking, paying the drunken old man no heed as he continued to speak to them.

"We have not had such beauty here in a long time," the Twi'lek continued, running his forked tongue over dirty, blackened teeth as he attempted to walk near the two. "Tell me," he called out, addressing Anakin directly, "where did you buy her? Such a pretty young thing must have been bred on a core world, correct? Did you get her from the undercity of Coruscant? I myself used to own—"

Without warning, Anakin released Leia from his grasp, forming his hand into a fist as he swooped low, aiming directly for the Twi'lek's face. Even without a weapon of any kind, a Jedi was still a deadly force to be reckoned with; at once his fist made contact, and the drunken man was knocked to his knees immediately, crying out in pain as the blood began to gush out of his nose. It was a light, quick movement, more of a rush than a swipe; still, his hands felt naked without his old lightsaber.

"Ah!" the man screamed, holding a hand to his face. Anakin narrowed his eyes, staring down at his victim for a few moments before placing a hand on Leia's shoulder. The man's friends had now emerged from their drunken stupor; stumbling over their own legs as they bolted towards their screaming friend.

Leia frowned; such a show of violence would surely attract unwanted attention. Being mistaken for some sort of pleasure slave—surely humiliating. But Anakin's quick temper had taken control of him; he had acted without thought, impulsively rushing to eliminate a minor annoyance. She slowly shook her head as Anakin looked down at his hand; absently he beganto massage his palm in an attempt to soften the blow his fist had taken against the man's bony face.

_Was that really necessary?_ she asked him as he looked up to her.

Anakin responded with a sigh; he quickly placed his arm around Leia once more, and ushered her away towards the quiet corridor. _Your mother would not have taken such insult. Even if we are trying to lie low…neither should you. Besides,_ he added, _Luke would have done the same._

Leia sighed, though a small smile crept through her frustration. "Thank you, Anakin," she said aloud, as Artoo uttered a few affirmative beeps behind them.

Anakin looked back at her, a protective expression drawn on his face. "You're welcome, Princess."

-

"They have money, I bet. It would pay for our repairs…we'd be doing them a favor, taking those credits off their hands. Bounty hunters, hell! They're just kids."

The other man did not reply; he merely stared at his companion's face, his expression blank as he pulled his parka nearer his chilled body.

"We been stuck here too long; we need to get out! Not to mention all those fees you earned back there, old friend," the talkative man continued, putting a hand on his comatose friend's shoulder. "Just leave it to me. We'll be off this rock in no time flat." Looking down, he frowned as his companion closed his eyes. "Than maybe you can be useful again."

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Anakin and Leia have to find some way to escape from Sing's Echo Base; with no money, no weapons, and no ship, how are they going to do it? Why, by making a deal with a certain someone, of course; someone who will lead them down a road they never thought to travel down. Stay tuned!

End notes: Here's Chapter 12! Whew, after a hard week of work, it's great to come back and write this fic. I hope you all like the slight turns I took here; when I first thought of a possible place for Anakin and Leia to go to on Hoth, I decided to send them to the ruins of Echo Base. It was just supposed to be all abandoned and stuff, but where's the fun in that? So I thought, OK, a smuggling/hunting base…but it needs to have a leader. That's where I came up with using Aurra Sing as Echo's new leader. While I'm not exactly sure that Aurra is the type of person who would really do that, I thought she would be the best person to stick in there…I thought about Zam Wessel, but she's clearly dead and also clearly knows what Anakin looks like. That said, I hope you all enjoyed it! Please review with any comments, suggestions, or questions, I love hearing them, and I'm really happy that so many people are enjoying this fanfic, which was originally being written because I had a plotbunny!

Due to the structure of the story…and to keep things moving smoothly...I'm going to devote the next chapter to Anakin and Leia as well. Luke and Padmé are good for now, but the Hoth storyline needs a bit more development.

VFSNAKE: Hope this Leia was a little less bitchy for you! She is warming, yes, but it will take some time before she totally defrosts. As for the Rebels, well, they'll be in for a surprise later…

ILDV: I know, right?! But as least Padmé has Luke to help her along now…

Sonseeahray: Thank you so much! I'm glad I got mother and son down right!

Vicster's Jar of Dirt: Yup, they'll be in for a treat when they meet up? What's in your jar of dirt by the way, Jack Sparrows' heart?!

Skybluesw: Yup, no getting to change their diapers or take them to school! Padmé missed out on the good and bad…

XXX: I'm glad you liked this chapter! Yeah…Luke's got a lot to explain to his poor mom.

Charlie Hayden: Haha yeah, I've gotta send Padmé and Luke away so they can hide! And talk…and stuff…anyway, I'm happy you liked it!!

DanaeMariSkywalker: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you liked my characterizations, I hope you liked the ones here as well!

Hieiko: Don't they?! Padmé and Leia both prefer bad boys, though…but I see no resemblance between Luke's and Anakin's perspective wives…

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Thanks for your review! In this chapter, I tried to show how Anakin and Leia are different as well, and how Anakin does resemble Luke in some way! Hope I succeeded!

Fluteplayer08: Haha I tried to make it so that Luke didn't know what to say…and who would, in that situation?!

Padmé Amaidala N. Skywalker: Thank you so much! I've never had anyone say one of my fics was the best they'd ever read…I'm really honored!!

The Chaotic Soul of Demons: Haha! I'm glad you liked my Luke/Padmé chapter, although it's a bit too late for Luke to become a mama's boy now!

mlhkvh5: Yup, I already have the whole reunion scene in mind…won't come for quite a bit, though! I'm glad I was able to capture Luke and Padmé well in the last chapter…I was worried that I was being too weird with them!

elven-cat2: Thanks for your support! Uh-oh…looks like I need to step up the Padmé/Luke scenario a bit. It's just natural that the Anakin/Leia would be more interesting than the Luke/Padmé part, so maybe I should add some additions to that…..hm…

Sentrosi: Phantom? Phantom Menace, or some other book called Phantom? I'm only asking because I love Phantom of the Opera too!

SOONsoonSOON: Thanks so much! Hope this update came fast enough for you!!!

TheSummoningDark: Yes, Anakin and Padmé are pretty together! I was watching ROTS the other day, and when Anakin did his little run to hug Padmé my heart melted. Oh goodness…

Thanks for reviewing, everyone!! To all those lurkers out there...please review! I want to know what you think about it, and any other suggestions to make it better...I love this fic very much. Feel the Force, people!!


	13. Disguise

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Note: OK, I just re-read this first part and thought it might be a little confusing to read. Just to clarify:

Leia and Anakin both feel certain strange emotions from Luke.

Luke blocks both of their attempts to find out what's going on.

Leia sees some images from Luke's mind, but Anakin does not.

Luke still doesn't know that Leia and Anakin are together.

Ameliora

Chapter 13: Disguise

by ArchFaith

Flashes of a woman's face...her tear-stained eyes widening as her quivering mouth gasped in sadness…

_Mother…_

The small woman was lying on a plain, narrow bed, her hands brought up to her face in an attempt to stifle the desperate sobs which now emanated from her lips. A black-clad figure stood by her bedside, looking down at the woman's distressed visage.

_Don't cry, Mother…_

She wanted to reach out to this woman; to embrace her and soothe her tear-stained face. In a way, she felt a certain sense of familiarity towards her; she wished she could have told this woman that everything would be alright…that all would turn out well in the end, even if Leia herself knew nothing of the circumstances. But Padmé…Padmé was long since dead. This phantom scene she witnessed now, through a waking dream—it was only a memory. Just another vision buried deep within the endless walls of time. Still, this left a nagging question to aggravate her already depressed mind; whose memory was she now witnessing?

_Luke?_

Her brother's presence suddenly came into her consciousness; yet, as quickly as it had arrived, it struggled to back away. She had not felt him for some time now, not since the unusual show of emotion he had displayed to her and Anakin when they first arrived on Hoth. Yet his presence, usually so calm and comforting, now drew back in a sudden retreat; it was almost as if Luke were mentally attempting to hide from her. As if he possessed a revelation that he did not wish her to know.

At once, the fleeting images of the woman in the hospital room ceased; it was as if she had been cut off from these feelings, thrown and locked away from her brother's emotions. A stinging pain resounded through her heart as she was pushed away; in anger, she tried to reach him once again.

_Luke? Who is she? Is this a memory of the past, or…_

She received no answer from him; he had tuned himself away from her, and all she could retrieve was a cold, empty feeling within her soul. Why had Luke tucked himself away so suddenly? True, their communication through the Force was tenuous at best—and it did not help that Luke was on Coruscant at the moment, and she on Hoth. Still—what of the image of the woman crying in the bed? It must have been a memory; perhaps it was a rediscovered memory coming from her unconscious mind. Yet she could have sworn that she had seen Luke there, in that image; standing by the woman's bedside, leaning down to embrace her…

_Padmé?_

-

She was promptly awoken by a smooth hand, reaching up to gently shake her on the shoulder. In an instant she was catapulted back into the reality of the present; opening an exhausted eye, she slowly stretched out before she buried her head back into the lumpy pillow on which she slept.

"Are you alright?" a tired voice asked, from somewhere near her in the darkness.

She breathed in slowly, closing her eyes once again. "Yes," she responded. "I just…felt Luke, that's all."

"Did you?" Anakin's sleepy voice answered in the darkness. "So did I."

At this statement Leia opened her eyes once again; she propped herself up, using her tired arms to lean over the side of the tall bunk, shifting herself onto her stomach as she gazed below her. Anakin peered up at her from the relative darkness of the small room; save for a few small lights located on Artoo's emergency panel, the room was a small patch of complete darkness. No surprise, since it was technically located underground.

Their intuitions about the barracks had indeed been correct; after the brief encounter with the drunken Twi'lek, they had entered the quiet-looking corridor at the far side of the hangar. A quick inspection of the rooms within the long, dirty hallway had proven fruitful; though there had been a few awkward moments when they had stumbled into occupied rooms, they did not have much trouble locating an empty chamber.

It was a small, uncomfortable room—just as Leia had remembered the barracks on Echo Base to be. There were two beds, bunked to save space, and a small desk in the corner; the rest of the furniture, it seemed, had been looted by the current residents of the base. It was really more of a large closet than an actual room—still, this did not matter to two exhausted travelers only seeking a place to rest in safety. After discarding her heavy parka and wet jacket, Leia had climbed up to the top bunk, nearly collapsing into bed as sleep overcame her. Anakin had followed suit, though he ensured that Artoo kept a close watch over the door to the chamber before settling into the bottom bed.

Now, though, it seemed that they had slept long enough. Resting her head down against her arm, Leia leaned down to stare at Anakin's prone form. "What did you feel?"

Anakin sighed, rolling onto his side as his thin black undershirt clung to his chest. "I felt Luke," he said simply, closing his azure eyes in an effort to recall the emotion. Whatever Luke had been doing, it had been emotionally exhausting for his son to endure—for the life of him, however, Anakin could not imagine what it could have been. Like Leia, he had felt a sort of apprehension coming from Luke's mind; though his own unconsciousness had tried to mingle with Luke's thoughts and sentiments, his son had pushed away. It was almost as if Luke did not wish to inform them of the events that had transpired; yet the feelings had been so distant, so vague that Anakin was not even sure that Luke knew what he was doing. He had traced a vague protective feeling from his son, but that had been all.

"He seemed…worried. But his mind was reluctant to tell me what was going on," he continued, opening his eyes to look up at his daughter. "It seemed like something he didn't want me to know."

Leia blinked, still trying to drive the sleepiness out of her eyes. "Did he do it on purpose? He seemed to push me away as well…it's unlike him to do that." _To me. _

Anakin shrugged his shoulders slightly, and Leia was immediately struck at the absolute turn his personality had taken since he had been known as Darth Vader. "He might have been doing it consciously…but it's hard to tell. Sometimes there are things in our consciousness that we push away by accident." Leia frowned in genuine confusion, and the crestfallen expression immediately reminded Anakin of his own dear Padmé, so many years ago; Leia shared Padmé's features, and this inquisitive expression she held on her face was exactly the same as Padmé's worried appearances.

True to her features, Leia really was perturbed; she leaned back, frowning as she sank back down onto the pillow. Luke had never before been so closed to her, before; even before she had known about their relation to each other, they had always shared an unspoken bond. Though it had not been until they arrived in the Ewok Village that he had revealed to her that Vader was his father—their father—for obvious reasons, everything else had always been shared between them, especially after Han had been frozen in carbonite. Why had his soul been so cold to her? _What is he hiding from me?_

"He's hiding something from the both of us," Anakin said, reading into her thoughts. Immediately sensing Leia's anger, Anakin had sat up, propping himself on his arms as he leaned up from the dusty bed. "Though he doesn't seem to know we're traveling together," he said mildly, drawing his knees up to his chest as he shifted into a sitting position. He too had been frustrated at Luke's unwillingness to share information; coupled with the strange mixture of emotions from before, it was impossible to figure out what exactly was going on with him on Coruscant.

Still—right now there were more important things to think about. Anakin had not spent twenty years as a Dark Lord of the Sith to allow such trivial details to distract him from the goal at hand. Wherever Luke was, and whatever he was doing, he was safe. Anakin and Leia, on the other hand…

"Perhaps it's better he doesn't know you and I are together. He would probably think we'd have murdered each other by now," Leia replied immediately, absently bringing a hand to rest against her heart. The woman she had seen in those images; the sad, tearful woman lying in the hospital bed—this had been an image gleaned directly from Luke's mind, she was sure of that. But what was the significance of this? And why had the woman looked exactly like Padmé, in that brief glimpse of her mother she had kept deep within her mind for so many years…? _Impossible…_

"Anakin," she said slowly, within looking back down at him, "did you feel anything other than emotion from him this time? Did you…see anything when you felt him?"

Anakin cocked his head; only once before, directly after the scuffle with the Twi'lek, had she addressed him as "Anakin", and not as the icy-accented "Vader". She seemed to have warmed considerably towards him; though there were still strong feelings of opposition between them, the current situation had thrown them against each other, and the only option was to work together.

"No," he answered. "Seeing images…not a rare thing, but not very common." Anakin lowered his eyes, bringing his visage to rest on Artoo's stationary figure. "You two might be more attuned to it than me…"

Leia nodded; though Anakin was their father, she and Luke had been together from the very beginnings of their lives, developing inside their mother. The Force had, perhaps, given them a stronger bond than most; being the children of one of the most powerful Jedi of all time had given them an edge in their telepathy. Still…she thought it best if she did not tell Anakin what she had seen in her dreams. It was simply a confusing series of images that would most likely disturb him; any mention of Padmé in general greatly distressed him.

She slowly sat up, mentally brushing away the anger that Luke's slight had aroused within her. She raised a hand to her head, smoothing out her waist-length hair that lay disheveled against her back. "Artoo," she said, looking down to the small droid, "how long have we been resting?"

Artoo's sensors immediately flipped on, and automatically a small slip of printed paper emerged from his data port, directly beneath his dome. Anakin reached out, swinging his legs down to plant his bare feet down on cold ground. He retrieved the paper and quickly read its contents. "He says we've been out for about twenty hours," he said, putting the paper down next to him. _Quite a long nap_, he thought. Yet it had been a reasonable amount of time, given the stresses they had been brought through, from the shuttle explosion to the trek across the wastelands of Hoth.

He stood up and stretched, rolling his tensed shoulders as Leia swung her legs down over the side of the top bunk. "So, what now?" Leia asked, looking down at Anakin's scruffy blonde head.

Anakin raised an eyebrow at her inquiry; usually, it was Leia making the decisions, telling him what course of action she thought they should take. It seemed as though she had softened over the course of their long sleep; perhaps the exhaustion had been cutting into their true emotions.

"I guess we'd better find someone willing to take us to Coruscant," he answered, stretching his arms out in front of him. "There has to be a way out of here…I'm sure we can just borrow a ship if we need to…"

Leia shook her head, a frown upon her face. "Even if they _are_ thieves, I don't want to stoop down to their level," she replied. "However we get out of this place…I want to do it as cleanly as possible." She propped herself up, and was about to jump down to the ground when Anakin appeared in front of her. Without warning, he reached out and placed both hands on her waist; before she could protest, he had lifted her into the air, causing her to automatically place both hands against his shoulders. For an instant their eyes met, her liquid brown eyes staring down at his azure blue gaze; in a moment he set her down on the ground, her bare feet coming to rest upon the cold tiles below.

She raised an eyebrow as he let go of her. "Thanks," she said brusquely. "What was that for?"

Anakin shrugged, in genuine confusion. "I don't know, Princess" he answered. What had compelled him to do such a thing, anyway? Firstly, there had been taking her hand when they had been outside in the cold; next, there was taking care of the Twi'lek who had insulted her. He had not voluntarily done small favors for other people for over twenty years; it had been so long since he had shown this kind of affection towards anyone else. Luke had received some of it, during their brief time together on the Death Star and on Endor; and though being with Leia on some sort of dangerous adventure was quite unexpected, he was more than willing to give her some of his affection as well.

Or perhaps he only regretted that he had not been able to do these things for her when she had been a child.

Leia sighed and went over to the desk, retrieving the black jacket she had worn from before. "You may call me "Leia" now," she said in a frustrated tone. "I think we've been through enough to call each other by our first names."

"Alright," Anakin agreed, looking over to her. "But I think I'd still like to call you 'Princess' from time to time."

"What for?" Leia asked, buttoning the jacket up over her white undershirt.

"It's a good nickname," Anakin answered. _It's come to mean something to me._

-

"Well, this is it."

Leia looked disdainfully at the entrance in front of them, placing a hand against her hip as she shifted uncomfortably against the wall. "So this is where we're going to pick up a ship to bring us to Coruscant?" she asked incredulously, giving her father a concerned look.

Anakin nodded, though his gestures also seemed tense. He looked back to the wide, rusted set of chrome doors, grey from a gathering of dust and grime coating the edges. "That's what the locals say," he commented. He absently tucked a hand into his parka, feeling about for the trigger of his blaster, and immediately remembered that it had been confiscated by Sing. Well, no matter. One minor annoyance would not diminish the power he could harness to protect them.

"Going into a place like this with no protection," Leia began, frowning. "We're walking targets…"

_Though a Jedi is taught to battle using a lightsaber, he or she also knows that the body is a potent weapon in itself._

Running the old proverb through his mind, Anakin placed a hand against her shoulder. "Don't underestimate your own power," he said. "You and I are both Jedi—you may be as yet untrained, but you still have the potential to be deadly without a blaster."

Leia shook her head, her mind still unbelieving as she thought of using her fists as weapons; compared to the good, solid feel of a blaster in her hand, she felt quite unprepared despite Anakin's encouraging words. "Alright," she answered, a nervous tone still emanating from her voice. "Let's go."

-

Noise. The vulgar laughter of prostitutes and the clicking of brimming mugs, coupled with scattered arguments between partners and third-rate music played by deadbeat musicians. Loud, raucous sounds, all mixing together to form a frustrated cacophony of pure noise.

_This used to be the mess hall, _Leia said, unwilling to speak to Anakin aloud due to the auditory confusion of the large room.

_They've done a great job remodeling,, _Anakin answered back, in a grim attempt at humor. _Be careful._

The former uses of the large room were still apparent; it was a cavernous room almost as big as the hangar, though its ceilings were not nearly as high. The entire chamber was crowded with long tables, all of them equipped with simple benches on which to sit; at the far end of the room was a kitchen area, with a counter for picking up the various rations the Rebels had used as nourishment. In the days of the Rebel base, the mess hall had been an area for conversation and relaxation; in a sense, it still maintained those same qualities…though its capacities seemed to have been slightly altered…

The room was spilling over with various humanoids and aliens, all engaged in various unsavory activities; most of them sat hunched over the long tables, drinks in their hands as they smiled and talked with their fellow comrades. The once-bright holo-globes that had made the hall cheerful and calm had been purposely dimmed; the kitchen area at the end of the hall had been converted into a large bar, where several cups and mugs of questionable content lay, ready for whomever wished to pay for them.

Several slave girls worked behind the counters, dishing out large plates of greasy food to several drunken patrons; the flash of credit pouches could be glimpsed through the monstrous crowd, as a few mysterious transactions took place. Though Sing had made it a point that all weapons were to be kept onboard ships, this did not stop any of the usual brawling incurred by alcohol; some unfortunate patrons lay slumped to the side, still clutching their empty bottles of wine as their enemies made off with the rest of their money. Scum and villainy, indeed…

Echo Base's own little cantina.

Leia resolutely entered the chamber, brushing the acute anger out of her mind as she stepped over a sleeping woman's stretched out arm. A mixed group of humanoids and aliens who had been sitting near the door immediately turned towards her, interested looks upon their faces; their expressions all faded to disgust, however, as Anakin entered after her. Word traveled quickly through the base, and news of this hotheaded newcomer and his little woman was by now common knowledge. Still, Leia was certainly not the only woman in the room, and it had been decided that procuring her would have been too much trouble; it was so much easier to pay for a woman's embrace than to get past her bodyguard…

"Well?" Leia asked, turning to Anakin as they strode past a loud, unintelligible argument between a Wookiee and his Gungan partner. "What do you propose to do now? Ask around this joint?"

"Wouldn't hurt to try," Anakin answered optimistically, taking another look around. The whole escapade had been his own idea; as disgusting and depraved as the entire establishment was, it would most likely be the best place to find a willing pilot to get them to Coruscant. Asking around in the hangar would have only made trouble; besides, nothing could convince a hesitant pilot in need of money more than a few strong drinks. In any case, it had worked for Luke and Obi-Wan more than four years ago on Tatooine; it could not hurt to try now.

Leia shuddered as the argument behind them erupted into a full-scale fight; a crowd had gathered around the Wookiee and the Gungan; they were now cheering as the Wookie easily lifted his screaming former partner into the air, the furry being's hairy arms wet with sweat and alcohol. "Ugh," she groaned. "I could _use _something to drink right about now."

A loud slam sounded against the floor behind them, and a drunken holler arose from the jeering crowd. "Good idea," Anakin replied. Putting a hand against her back, he followed her through the thick crowd as they made their way to the back of the chamber, towards the long counter populated by food and drinks.

After a few minutes of pushing and elbowing, the pair finally made their way through the throng of people; most of them, however, had already rushed away to see the aftermath of the previous one-sided fight. The bar was little more than half-full as Leia grasped the counter, pulling herself and Anakin past a large, greasy Besalisk who nearly took up the space of two humans.

A young Pa'lowick slave girl, her frog-like face nearly dripping with cheap make-up, immediately came to the two as they came up against the bar. "What'll ya have?" she asked, looking impatiently at Leia's flushed face.

"Well—"

"Two bottles of spiced wine, on me," a gruff-looking voice interrupted, from behind them. "And throw in some Ardees while you're at it."

A human man had appeared behind them, a smooth expression upon his face as he approached father and daughter from the far side of the counter. He was a large man, though it was not certain if this was due to fat or muscle; he was dressed in dirty brown armor that looked scarred and unpolished, and over this he wore a series of torn rags and ponchos which seemed to double for cold-weather clothing. A large cloth turban obscured half his face; his middle-aged face was clean-shaven, though his skin was deathly pale beneath the wrappings. One large, reddish eye looked out at them from beneath the dingy cloth.

Anakin tensed as the man stepped up to them, his face tightening into a grimace. Coincidence after coincidence…this was too much. First Sing, now this man—why, he remembered him as clearly as anything. On the bridge of the Executor, standing with several battle-hardened hunters, briefing them about Luke and the capture of the Falcon—

"Excuse me from interrupting," the man said, with a curt nod of his head.

Leia scowled at him, leaning against the counter top as the Pa'lowick bustled about the bar, gathering the bottles and a few glasses from against a makeshift shelf on the wall. "Let's make this easy for all of us," she said, smoothing a few stray strands of hair from her face as the glasses and bottles were planted in front of them. "What do you want from us?"

The man gave them a thin smile, which seemed uncharacteristic from his grave-looking face. "Words spreads fast around here," he began, handing the slave girl some dirty-looking credits from a pocket on his belt. "I hear you two are without a ship." He grabbed the bottles by their necks, and despite his rough hands, balanced the three glasses between his fingers. "Perhaps I can be of some service to you."

"What would your terms be?" Anakin questioned, eyeing the older man in the face.

"Why don't we conduct a little business talk?" the man replied, turning around. "There's a small room off to the corner, on the northwest side," he said, peering at them from behind his back. "I'd walk you there, but this crowd is pretty thick. If you're serious, meet me there in five minutes. Then we'll talk." With that, he disappeared into the thongs of people, his arms full with the cheap alcohol bottles.

Anakin creased his eyebrows as Leia turned to face him. "What do you think?" she asked, in a frustrated tone. "He's offering what we came to get…"

Her father nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes as he trailed the man's disappearing figure, surrounded by the dirty bodies of the smugglers and hunters around them. "We might as well follow up on this," he said thoughtfully. _So he's ended up here…he and Sing are too skilled in their profession to be consorting with such low company…_

_You know him? _Leia asked suddenly. In a sudden reversal of events, Anakin found his mind now partially occupied by Leia's inquisitive brain; so, she was learning to attune herself to another's thoughts as well.

_I encountered him once before, _he answered, as the scowling Pa'lowick looked to them impatiently.

"If ya ain't ordering anything, clear out!" she yelled rudely at them. Leia and Anakin barely paid her any heed; taking one absent look at her, the pair swiftly departed, making room for an older human woman who was clearly in need of more to drink.

_When I placed a bounty on both Luke and the Falcon, he was one of the hunters who answered my call, _Anakin continued, edging past a table of smugglers preoccupied with their drunken game of sabacc. By this time, the fight had been broken up; a few half-sober members of the crowd now knelt next to the wounded Gungan, who was clutching his arm with a pained expression upon his face. The triumphant Wookiee downed a few more mugs of spiced wine as Leia and Anakin squeezed their way past the groups of conversing people.

_Well, we certainly seem to be running into a bunch of familiar faces, _Leia answered sarcastically as the two made their way past the crowd towards the northwest part of the hall. _I wonder who's next?_

In a few minutes they reached the small room the old man had been talking about; the door was slightly ajar, and a dim light shone from the small crack between the door and the frame. Giving Anakin a wary glance, Leia pulled the door open and the two stepped inside.

-

The man was as good as his word; a small portable holo-globe sat in the center of a small round table that seemed to have been pulled off its hinges and dragged into the room—though supply closet would have probably been a better description. Three chairs were neatly grouped the small table, though their backs nearly touched the other wall due to the narrow nature of the space. The older man turned round to face them, a gruff smile on his face as he poured himself a glass of spiced wine.

"Glad you could join me," he said, sipping the glass as he gestured as he took a seat. "I hope we can be on friendly terms with each other."

Anakin nodded, his face unexpressive as he held out his hand to the man. "Ani," he said simply. "And my partner, Winter." Leia nodded her head, watching as the man gestured to the two empty seats in front of him.

"Dengar," the man said simply, pushing two brimming glasses towards them as they quickly sat down. "Now let's discuss how we can be of service to each other."

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Ani and Leia might have a ways of escaping Hoth! Dengar's willing to give them what they want, but there's a bit of a catch to the whole operation. Aurra Sing, Dengar…who'll be the next old face to pop up? Meanwhile, Luke and Padmé discover what exactly Obi-Wan had in mind for the senator of Naboo…stay tuned!!

End notes: Wow, I really enjoyed writing that chapter!! I just hope it wasn't too confusing for everyone. I re-read the first part of it and realized that my wording was a bit off. I already tried to explain it in the beginning, but here's a more detailed explanation of what went on (so everyone knows who knows what about what, etc.).

Leia and Anakin both feeling Luke, and they both feel like Luke is hiding something from them. Leia, however, also sees the images of Padmé crying in bed, whereas Anakin does not. Luke feels both of them, yet still does not know that Anakin and Leia are stranded together on Hoth. As for why Luke doesn't want either of them to know about Padmé, yet, that will be explained in a future chapter. I hope that helps makes things clear, the last thing I want to write is a confusing fic…

Also, the "Echo Base Cantina" is a homage/parody of the original Mos Eisley cantina scene. It's impossible to accurately portray the atmosphere the cantina achieved in writing, but I just love that scene so much that I decided to write my own little cantina sequence. Besides, Leia and Anakin do need to find a way off Hoth…

VFSNAKE: Haha, I thought having Anakin get a lightsaber too soon would be a little too unbelievable. No worries though, they'll get some protection soon!!!

Yashida: I'm glad you're enjoying my mini-cliffhangers! I was thinking they might be way too drawn-out or something….anyway, I decided to put Luke/Padmé on hold for a bit, since I wanted to develop the Hoth storyline a bit more. Hope I satisfy your cravings in the next chapter!!

ILDV: Yup, Ani's acting more like daddy to his little Leia, hehe. And your English is JUST FINE, I can understand you perfectly!! I love your ideas for some funny situations, though…I will definitely try to work something in with your idea for Han being deranged, hehe! I love that one, thanks for suggesting it!!

SkyBlueSw: Haha I'm glad you liked Anakin's punch. I figured he would eventually get more comfortable being "daddy-like" in front of Leia and would want to preserve her honor. Thank you!!

Vicster's Jar of Dirt: Haha speaking of Jack Sparrow, I saw a guy dressed a guy dressed as Capt. Jack at Star Wars Celebration this year. He was a bit hit with everyone D And yeah, Anakin plus Han plus Leia equals a bad situation…

Jedi Master Arie Skywalker: I'm glad you liked it! I thought it might be too humorous and might take away from the seriousness of the story, but then I thought…since when is Star Wars 100 serious anyway?!

Sentrosi: Wow, that's quite a long novel…I plan to be reading Harry Potter soon, when the last book comes out. I bet it's just as long as that.

TheSummoningDark: Yeah, I was thinking Leia would just be trying to ignore the guy while Anakin would let himself get riled up, like Luke. Thanks for reviewing!!

The Chaotic Soul of Demons: Do you really think I kept Leia in balanced character? I'm so happy you think so!! I have recently read a lot of fanfics where Leia acts way out of character, and I wanted to stay as far away from that as possible. I guess I succeeded… thanks for letting me know!

DanaeMariSkywalker: Yeah, I always did love Aurra Sing's character designs. Actually, she IS alive, in the EU…she's already shown herself. I'm glad you're liking my characterizations though, hope I kept up with it in this chapter!

akasailorsea: Thanks so much for reviewing, really glad you're enjoying my fanfic!!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Too many injuries huh? Haha, poor Ani and Leia…I do much to torture them!

Aximilli2: Reunion? Patience, my dear reader…soon!!

Beth Weasley: Ah, now that's true, Padmé and Mara are fairly good pilots. Yeah, Leia and Anakin are quite difficult to write about, especially when Leia's so antagonistic towards her dad. I tried to soften her little by little, so that it seemed natural instead of "plot devicey". Thanks so much for reviewing, I really enjoying reading your comments!

SOONsoonSOON: Wow, that was actually really informative, thanks for telling me about that! I think I might have some good excuses for Obi-Wan now…I was running a bit dry on that. THANKS SO MUCH!!!

Cibbler: Haha…indeed. Ani and Leia are definitely not just kids!

Space Writer: Eh….Qui-Gon and Maul…while that would be cool, I don't think it's gonna happen. Too convenient…but I do love Darth Maul, very much! Thanks for reviewing!

Elusive Maverick: Yup, Ani's number one! Oh, I love him (and his muscled chest) so much…

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and to everyone who reads this story in general! Please guys, review and tell me your thoughts…what you liked and didn't liked, what you think could be improved, and any suggestions for future chapters! I really enjoy reading everything!! Kama ari wanga!!


	14. Reassurance

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 14: Reassurance

by ArchFaith

Dengar leaned back, raising the frothy glass to his lips as he gave them a sharp glance. "My ship's in the hangar at present," he began reflectively, tapping his fingers against the rim of the dirty table. "Word has it around the base that you're in need of a transport."

"That's right," Leia answered furtively, placing both elbows on the table as she leaned forward. "Might you have any…_suggestions _for us?"

The bounty hunter smiled, and gestured towards the full glasses of spiced wine that lay before Anakin and Leia on the table. "Perhaps you've heard of me before," he said evasively, narrowing his eyes.

At any other time, having something to drink would have been quite inappropriate, given the situation they were in; now, however, sharing some of what Dengar offered them would only help to solidify any future agreement. Leia reached forwards, and took up the glass of wine with gentle fingers as Anakin answered him. "You're a hunter, correct?"

"Correct," Dengar replied, sipping the wine as delicately as if he had been a gentleman dining in an expensive restaurant. "I'm no common smuggler or pilot."

Leia raised the glass to her lips as Anakin continued. "Then why wish to speak with us? Shouldn't you be off hunting some claims instead of messing around with us?"

He felt Leia give him a mental jab. _Don't forget who you are, and where we are, _she said, sipping the spiced wine; she gave him a miniscule glance from the corners of her eye as she lowered the glass from her mouth. _You may have held authority when you were Darth Vader, but now we have to bow to his terms. If you want us to get out of here, that is…_

"Good question," the hunter replied, in response to Anakin's query. "I will be honest with you." His hand, lying flat against the table, now formed into a fist as he continued. "Coming to Echo Base was an…unexpected surprise. My colleague and I were traveling another route when we discovered that we were being followed. To make a long story short," he said, his face growing dark as he recalled his own story, "my ship was damaged in the dogfight. It can still fly, but some important components of it are damaged or missing."

"I see," Leia answered. "Then why isn't your ship being fixed at this moment?" As she spoke, she gently pushed the untouched glass of wine towards Anakin. _Drink this._

"Due to some…unforeseen circumstances, my friend and I are unable to access our funds," Dengar answered lightly. "Bounty hunters without the means…a sad thing, indeed."

_It's dangerous for you to even have tasted it, _Anakin shot back, eyeing the glass with a wary glance. _He could have slipped something into it…_

"We provide you with the money, you pay for repairs, and in return you will transport us to our destination," Leia finished, looking the hunter steadily in the eye.

_If you don't drink it, it will seem like we're hiding something, _she told Anakin mentally. _The more relaxed we seem, the easier it will be to negotiate this._

Anakin sighed, in the sudden realization that his daughter was right. By the way the conversation was headed, it did indeed seem that Dengar was eager to close a deal; Leia had been correct in her assessment. Then again, it was true that Leia was highly experienced in securing transactions of this sort; it was obvious from her gestures, her movements, and the ways in which she danced around the topic of conversation before honing in on the blunt truth. Though she now sat slouched over in an attempt to be informal, a closer examination proved that her body was tense and patient; she was always ready to strike, yet bided her time until the correct moment to pounce.

He reached for the glass as Dengar nodded. "Precisely," he answered.

"How much do you want?" she continued, as Anakin sipped the wine with some interest. Truth be told, though he had spent more than half his life as a powerful Sithlord, he had never before tasted wine. As a Padawan, he had been forbidden to engage in such frivolous activities, and the thought of entertainment of any kind had scarcely crossed his mind as he became Darth Vader.

"As much as you prepared to offer."

Anakin set the glass down, a slight burning sensation tingling down his throat; he gave Leia a quick glance before turning back to the hunter. "Will ten thousand be enough to repair your ship?"

"Ten thousand sounds fine," Dengar answered. "But…where exactly were you planning on going?"

"Coruscant," Anakin answered, as Leia took another sip of the wine. "Will that be alright with you?"

"Hm," Dengar muttered thoughtfully, again drumming his fingers against the counter. "Coruscant might be too much to ask, for only ten thousand."

Leia scowled, quickly gathering her thoughts together as Anakin gave her a fast glance. They did not have to be transported directly to Coruscant; no, just a civilized planet with a money retrieval system that would give her access to her funds, hidden deep within the Rebel monetary system. She was by no means destitute; even though Alderaan and most of her family's fortune had been destroyed, her father had seen fit to place various outlets of money into hidden accounts under different names, and she knew the access code to each one. Much of her fortune had gone into funds for Rebel needs—ship maintenance, employee salaries, and other trivial costs—but there was still more than plenty at her personal disposal. All she needed to do was get a hold of it…

Though she did not communicate directly with Anakin, he knew very well what she was thinking. Though Leia had been able to close her mind to him before, she offered her thoughts freely now; any suggestion, any consideration would do.

"Can you take us to Naboo?" Anakin asked suddenly, putting a hand against Leia's shoulder. Leia turned to him, raising an eyebrow. As soon as the thought had entered his mind he had voiced it; an impulsive decision, perhaps, but it was a reasonable request. _Naboo…_

Dengar cocked his head thoughtfully, closing his hand into a fist against the small table. "Naboo," he repeated, after a few moments. "Well…not nearly as far as Coruscant." He sat up, putting both elbows on the table. "It's a deal." He gave them a short smile, which suddenly did not seem at all sincere. "Betting you two will be able to clean up once you're on a planet with means. What's the cargo?"

Knowing better than to let her guard down, Leia reached out and coquettishly placed her pale hand against the table. "Just myself, my partner…one droid." She raised her eyes to the hunter's hawk-like gaze. "And no questions asked."

The older man's grin once again returned, this time in amusement. "Some kind of trouble you seem to be in," he said. "Well, you two have a deal." He reached out, and took a healthy gulp of spiced wine before setting the empty glass down on the table. "As for the payment, it would be better if I had it now; that way, we could make our repairs and have the ship ready to leave in two days."

"We'll give you five thousand now…and five thousand when we board the ship," Anakin responded. "You can make your final repairs once we're onboard."

Dengar nodded. "Clever," he remarked.

Anakin unceremoniously reached into the folds of his jacket, and withdraw a small credit pouch that had been tucked into a hidden pocket, sewn to the inside of his jacket. "It's in here, give or take a few dozen," he said, placing it down on the table.

Dengar retrieved it with interest, and opened it to check on the contents. As Anakin had said, there were five thousand sixty-three credits within the pouch, the scarred pieces of metal clanking slightly against each other as the hunter shifted them in his palm. "Good," he said. "Well, these should do the trick…for now, at least." He stood up, his heavy-set body lumbering like a tree trunk. "We'll start our repairs first thing tomorrow….should be ready to leave late tomorrow night. You can come around to check about twenty standard hours from now."

Leia nodded, though the sudden realization of one small word suddenly came to her attention. _We._

As if in response to her mental query, Dengar continued with his instructions. "As I mentioned before, I am traveling with a colleague of mine. He was recently attacked by some of our rivals, so I am tending to him until his illness clears. But I think you'll find him trustworthy enough."

Anakin narrowed his eyes. "I hope so."

The hunter unceremoniously held his hand out to each of them in turn. "I hope you enjoy the wine," he said, his hand grasping Anakin's firm fingers. "It would be a shame to waste any of it."

In a few moments he had opened the door to the room, letting the raucous noises drown out the relative calmness of the negotiation table. Letting the door swing shut behind him, the two had barely enough time to see him push his way through the crowd before losing sight of him completely.

Leia sighed, propping her head up on the table with her hands as she angled her face towards Anakin. "You think we made a good deal?"

"There's only one way to find out," he replied. "Still…he's no lowlife. Even among bounty hunters there's some sort of honor code." He leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to his daughter. "If we keep our guard up, I don't think we'll see any problems. It's this 'colleague' I'm wondering about…"

"Mmm," Leia said, the sound coming from the pit of her throat. "Well…it's only chance we've got."

A brief moment of silence followed as the pair silently reflected their transaction. It had seemed legitimate; but of course they had to keep on their guard. Dengar, like any other bounty hunter, was a hardened individual; years of tracking and disposing of acquisitions, as hunters called their victims, would make any man or woman quite weary after some time. Aurra Sing had shown some of this vague ennui, when they had first met her; Dengar seemed to display it too, to some extent. To the question of their agreement—most likely it would pass without incident. Most hunters prided themselves on their code; the fact that they were above a thief's petty crimes of stealing from unsuspecting victims.

But this so-called 'colleague'…well, this was going to be something to watch out for.

After a few minutes' silence, Leia found herself absently staring at the three bottles of alcohol before her—one was already half-empty, but the bottles of spiced wine and Ardees remained intact. Meaningfully, she reached forward and clasped her pale fingers around the neck of the half-empty bottle. "What are you doing?" Anakin asked, watching as she poured half of the remaining wine into his glass.

"Might as well," she replied simply, echoing many of Han's former sentiments as she raised her own glass to her lips. "He did say not to waste it."

-

The large, opulent-looking door was located at the end of a long hallway; a lush carpet of purple Ottegan silk lined the corridor, so thick and soft it felt as though one were walking through an overgrown field of grass. Small censor lights were mounted against the red walls of the hall; they were small and dimmed, adding an air of elegance to the luxurious corridor. For anyone else on Coruscant, the hallway and the apartment connected to it would have been considered prime real estate, fit only for a diplomat or nobleperson. Or perhaps a queen.

Soft steps resounded down the corridor, now; two pairs of feet padding against the carpet, slowly making their way towards the apartment. The black boots came first; confident yet cautious, they were followed closely by a pair of slipper-clad feet. The sound of rolling wheels was also heard, closely following behind them; though the hallway was well-furnished, it now betrayed its true age as the a few traces of dust swirled out of the lush carpet, triggered by the sudden movements.

"Anakin told me he kept it after all this time…he said he couldn't bear to destroy it," a voice said, echoing through the hall. "It looks like it's still intact…"

"I hope so," another voice answered; the short sentence carried with it an air of frailness and exhaustion. "If not, we'll be in a tight spot, with these…Imperials." Her voice faltered at the mention of the unfamiliar, yet apparently common, word; shaking her head, she tightened her grip around the small, tube-shaped parcel which dangled from a make-shift string against her fingers.

The blonde-haired man clasped the woman's hand tightly within his own as they continued towards the door. Despite her obvious fatigue, she continued to speak as they stepped up to the threshold. "The security system only responds to two retinal scans—Anakin's and myself. These eyes are the only ones that can access the apartment." Meaningfully, she turned towards her son as they came up to the small panel by the door. "I would have programmed it for you and Leia…"

Luke felt a quick, sad twinge inside him as Padmé turned to the panel. His mother…at this very moment, he was standing next to his mother, holding her hand. Impossible…there was a part of him that could never believe what had happened in the space of only two days. From discovering the carbonite slab in Watto's shop to the thawing procedure, to the second he found herself holding her hand, walking down the streets of CoCo City in an attempt to find a way to her old place of residence…his mother…

Padmé threw the large hood she wore back from her face, smoothing out her curly hair as she pushed a few unmarked buttons on the panel. Secretly hoping that Anakin had not altered or tampered with the security system in the last two decades, she stared intently into the screen as a thin, electronic voice issued out of a small speaker next to the panel.

"Retinal…scan commencing," the voice said; even though it was artificial, it was evident that the security system had not been used in years. A small green scanning light appeared to drift out of the screen; it danced against Padmé's face, stopping for just an instant on her liquid brown eyes. Almost instantly the laser disappeared from her eyes, its task completed.

"Welcome, Senator…Amidala," the voice returned, suddenly sounding broken and low. The opulent-looking door immediately opened; as it did, lights flickered on within the apartment, illuminating the darkened rooms within.

"Just like I remembere it," Padmé whispered; of course, it seemed as though she had last seen the place just a few days before. But it had been more than a few days, though her body and mind struggled to tell her otherwise. Still, every time she thought she was dreaming—every time she suspected more of Palpatine's mind control working its charms—she would turn to the blonde-haired man next to her, and silently probe his features and mannerisms. So familiar…yet, he was a near-stranger to her.

_Luke._

"Come inside," she said, gesturing him into the doorway. Luke, despite his mother's enthusiastic urgings, stepped cautiously over the threshold, eyeing the living quarters observantly as Arfour followed, with a series of low, polite beeps.

The apartment was furnished in a simple, elegant way; though it was rather sparse in its furniture and decorations, one could simply tell from the cut of the tapestry to the upholstery on the couch that it had been tailored to one who had been used to luxury. The walls were constructed of a sturdy blue chrome; the bright azure color served to brighten up the atmosphere considerably. The room they now found themselves was of a long, rectangular persuasion; the front and back walls were covered completely by large viewing windows, exposing the shadowed outlines of the skyscrapers beyond; cars whizzed by, paying them no heed as their busy occupants slowed and sped up, keeping to the tune of Coruscant's meticulous transportation system.

With a smile, Padmé immediately stepped forward, her step quickening as she almost threw herself onto the couch in the living area. Finally, a familiar place greeted her tired eyes; proof that the world she had once known might still exist, albeit in a different form. Turning to Luke, she rewarded him with a large grin that he seemed quite unprepared for. "Well, this is home," she said reflectively. "Come sit next to me." Though her smile remained, her tone now grew tender, softer—she quickly reminded herself that this was her son she dealt with, though they had only met two days before.

But the twisted ways in which the situation had turned; when she gave birth to the twins, she had expected herself to be the student, while her children would teach her how to become their mother. But Luke's childhood had long since passed; he was now a grown man, while she was still struggling to become the parent that he had never known. The fact that she appeared to be no more than five years older than him did not help.

Luke did as he was told; in a moment he sank down next to her, leaning forwards as she gave him a faint smile. "It seems like only a few days ago I left this place…" she began, her eyes wandering over the various furnishings and ornaments of the suite. The last time she had laid eyes upon her home on Coruscant had been directly before she had departed for Mustafar, to ask Anakin to relent…

Sensing her discomfort, Luke immediately reached out, placing a warm hand against her folded fingers. "Technically, it _has _only a few days," he said slowly, drumming his fingertips against hers. "For everyone else—"

"—it's been a lifetime," she finished, looking down. With a sigh, she fondly took Luke's hand within her own. "Such a long time, Luke," she began, a grave look crossing her face. "The stories you've told me...it seems as though they could never be real."

He did not reply; too unsure of what to say, they sat quietly for a few moments as Padmé absently squeezed his hand within her fingers. Yes, everything he told her had been true; the endless facts he had imparted on her were still only the tip of the entire twenty years of history she had spent imprisoned within the carbonite. He told her of his own life on Tatooine, living the staid life of a moisture farmer with his aunt and uncle; of Leia's own childhood, raised as a princess of Alderaan, in direct contrast to his own. The tales of Han Solo, Chewbacca, and the rest of their allies could fill hundreds of volumes in a great library; the stories he told her were only small snippets, all threads belonging to a great tapestry.

Of Anakin, however, he had purposely tried to remain ambiguous. He had informed Padmé that Anakin had indeed been taken under Palpatine's wing after her supposed death; he told her of the life support suit he had worn since the duel on Mustafar, and of the shock Luke had received upon finding out their relationship to one another, during the duel on Cloud City. Of course Padmé had questioned him about his deeds and doings; yet he had managed to brush these aside, with the simple response that Anakin himself would be able to tell her more, in depth. If anyone should break the grave news of Darth Vader's crimes to her, it should be Anakin himself. _He did what he did; he should be the one to tell her about it._

Still, the small doubts in the back of his mind began to nag at his brain once again; where _was _Anakin, in the first place? It had been approximately three days since Padmé had been thawed from the carbonite; Anakin had been scheduled to arrive the day after Luke. At first, Luke had merely thrown off Anakin's tardiness as bad luck; perhaps he had been held up on Endor, waiting for a shuttle or another transport if the rest of the remaining craft were in use. Days had passed, however, without even so much as a transmission from him; mild thoughts in Luke's head had increased to a troubling worry as he tried to hide his anxiety from Padmé. She had been through enough over the last few days; to share his doubts about Anakin with her would only stress her to a breaking point. At times like these, he was thankful that she was not as Force-sensitive as he, Anakin, and Leia. Still, he did sense the Force inside her; perhaps not to the point that a Jedi might possess it, but the amount was still considerable.

The bonds of the Force were so powerful that he would have felt if Anakin had been killed, surely; the bond would have been severed, and he would have felt a rip current so powerful he would probably faint. It was the same with Leia, and probably even stronger due to their relation as twin siblings. No, they were still alive, both of them, even if he did not know where they were. Nor did he seek to find out, for a reason only he could clearly identify; he did not want them to know that Padmé was alive—not yet.

If he relayed the amazing news to them now—either of them—they would be too confused to make any sense of it. To let them know through the Force that she was alive would be torturous for them to hear; yes, the miracle would be known, but then they would have to suffer from the agony of being kept from her for a few days. Anakin, especially; knowing him, he would probably be recklessly zooming through space, mowing down anyone and anything in his path if he knew that his Padmé lived. Then there would also be the questions; Anakin's inquiries would be obvious, but Leia would have asked what he had been doing on Coruscant in the first place. This would then trigger the entire secret plan to be divulged, and there was no telling what Leia would do if she learned that Anakin Skywalker still lived.

Unaware that Anakin and Leia were quite well past the point of discomfort, Luke turned his attentions back to Padmé with a sigh. "The parcel," he said simply, indicating the small, shapeless bag that she clutched in her smooth hands. It had been the same package that the medics from the thawing facility had presented him with; found on Padmé's person when she had been fatefully freed from the slab that day, Luke had deemed it dangerous to open until he and Padmé were in a safe location.

Padmé's apartment, perhaps, was about the safest place they could hope to find at the moment; it was imperative that the contents of the package be revealed. Sensing Luke's sudden curiosity, Padmé gently withdrew the long, cylindrical canister from the pouch. It was smooth and unmarked, constructed of a common enough metallic compound. Slowly flipping it over, Padmé's fingers wandered to the primitive clasp on the lid; it seemed to be an almost antiquated little parcel, and looked as though it had been prepared in such a way because there had been no other alternative. The clasp slid apart as her finger pushed against the button; the lid snapped open with a loud clanging noise, and almost immediately the contents of the package were revealed.

A hologram quickly sprang to life in front of them; a small, fuzzy image of a middle-aged man, his face and clothes glowing with bright blue light as he seemed to emerge from the top of the lid. Though his features could not be clearly seen, it was evident that he wore the robes of a Jedi Knight—his long brown cloak gently billowed around his sides as he turned his bearded face to his unknown audience. "Padmé," the hologram whispered, in a voice that seemed all too familiar…

"Obi-Wan," she answered back, with a sudden rush of regret as the canister suddenly shook within her hands.

The hologram paused for a moment; the small figure took a nervous look around, in a manner reminiscent of the Princess of Alderaan's own nervous message years before. "Padmé…if you're listening to this message, then you have survived the carbon freezing process and are hopefully in safe hands. Please listen closely…I don't have much time."

Luke looked over to his mother; her face had grown rapt and quiet, and she was focused in on the flickering blue figure. Her hands still shook slightly, from the sudden shock of seeing her old friend one more time; and indeed, Luke himself was shocked to see how young and powerful his old mentor had once been. Yet, even within the youthful face, one could still see the lines of worry and regret; even though the hologram was aged and fuzzy, these signs of stress were still quite evident.

He reached out to steady his mother's shaking hands as the hologram continued. "Forgive me for my actions," Obi-Wan continued. "Only a few minutes ago, I gave the command to have you frozen in carbonite. You were weak, Padmé…you were dying."

His voice was punctuated by a momentary sadness; in an instant, however, the hologram spoke again. "The twins need you here; they cannot lose you now. I took a course of action that I thought would be most beneficial to everyone. Master Yoda and I have spoken about what is to be done."

At this point Obi-Wan's figure grew tense; he leaned forward, with an air of secrecy. "If Anakin is still alive—doubtful, but possible—he will certainly come looking for you. We have taken all the precautions to prevent that—we have spoken to the Kaminoans, and they are constructing a flesh replica of your body that we will send to Naboo. Your funeral will be held there—though you yourself will not be in attendance."

_So that is how they were able to do it_, Padmé thought silently. For a moment, her thoughts wandered back to her family and friends on Naboo—her mother and father, and the rest of the people she loved and cared for. They had been fed a lie, for her own protection—they had been made to believe that their beloved Padmé and her unborn children had perished, when exactly the opposite was true…

"We have decided that Luke is to be sent to Tatooine, to the Lars family," the hologram continued. "Bail Organa will take Leia to Alderaan, where he and Breha will adopt her as their own."

A distant sound echoed in the background of the recording; the holographic Obi-Wan took another look around before continuing. "I'm sorry I don't have time to explain more," he said, shaking his head. "But we will come for you. We are going to send you to a safe haven, to be hidden as the twins. Do not give up hope, Padmé. If you are watching this message without an ally by your side, then stay calm. But I promise your protection. These measures are unfortunate, but must be taken to secure your safety from Palpatine. If he learns that you and the twins still live, he will surely try to hunt you down."

The hologram flickered suddenly, as though it was nearing the end of the message. With a quick brush of static, the hologram's voice dwindled to a muffled whisper. "Whether it takes months, or perhaps even years, myself or Master Yoda will come for you….I've enclosed something here for you, to aid you should you meet any danger. Use it—"

The message stopped; the hologram appeared suspended for a few moments before disappearing entirely, leaving only a flash of dull blue light in its wake.

Padmé sat back, her mouth slightly ajar as she reflected over the information that had just been imparted to her. So Obi-Wan and Yoda had her frozen in carbonite—to protect her? Perhaps it probably was the safest measure to take at the time; if Palpatine had indeed been hunting her down, a ship hold full of carbonite would be less conspicuous than a closely-guarded transport ship. Still…Obi-Wan had assured that her that someone would come for her. But had he meant that someone would come for her in twenty-three years? Luke told her that Obi-Wan had been living as a hermit on Tatooine since the end of the Republic, and that Yoda was in seclusion on Dagobah…in all that time, had they never once thought about her? Even an isolated life on a distant planet might have been better than being dormant and helpless for so long…

Luke creased his eyebrows, looking at his mother's confused face as her hand absently caressed his fingers. He found himself unable to speak; though Obi-Wan's message had helped to clear up some questions, mystery still surrounded the whole affair. "Well," he began quietly, "at least you have one ally by your side."

Padmé's smooth fingers flexed around his as she looked up to him. In one smooth movement, she caught him in a sudden embrace; enfolding him against her as she buried her head against his shoulder. Luke automatically responded, placing both arms around her; though the embrace was unexpected, it was certainly welcome. In a surge of protectiveness, Padmé closed her eyes against her son's shoulder.

_He never had a chance to embrace me when he was young._

The canister containing the message had clattered to the floor, forgotten during the tender gesture, it rolled towards the leg of the small table before them. The top part of the lid popped off the cylinder; in actuality, it had been a flat, rounded data recorder that had held the old message in the first place. Still, the other contents which Obi-Wan had discussed remained within.

Padmé gently let go of her son, and bent downwards to pick up the fallen article. It was imperative to see what Obi-Wan had left her; perhaps it was something that could be of great use. She reached inside the canister, and pulled out a long, cylindrical device. With a jolt of realization, she rose from her seat, examining the device between her hands before turning back to her son.

"Luke," she said gently, igniting the icy blue beam of the saber with a gentle push of a button, "I believe this should be yours."

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Anakin and Leia have secured a transport, but is everything really going to turn out alright with Dengar and his 'colleague'? Meanwhile, Luke anxiously awaits any message from Anakin, but quite enjoys having his new toy around…also, Han, Chewie, Lando, and Threepio get angry cause they haven't really been in this story at all. Stay tuned!!

End notes: Oh wow…for some reason, I'm a little dissatisfied with this chapter. Due to the demands of work and leisure (mainly, going to the Otakon anime convention last weekend!) I wasn't able to put this out until now. Also, Harry Potter ate my life, and I figured that I should get all the Harry-ness out of my system before I attempt to write SW again!

I hope everyone is enjoying this so far! I also hope that I made Luke's intentions clear as to why he's not telling Anakin and Leia, through the Force, why Padmé is alive. I figured that he would want to tell them in person, instead of through mental communication. I figured that it was one of those things that has to be said in front of someone, not while you're far away from them! AHA! Sort of like…telling your parents that you're getting married in person, instead of on the phone (if that can be helped…). OK, bad example, but you get the picture! Also, letting Anakin and Leia know about Padmé now would disrupt the flow of everything…

Anyway, thank you for all your generous comments! Please, review and tell me that was good, confusing, bad, stupid, etc…I love hearing your suggestions, and I really want to try and incorporate some of them into my story!

VFSNAKE: Hehe, yes, I have heard about the whole "Lady Vader" thing! And while I do admit it would be interesting, I just don't know enough about the EU to write such thing! I'd probably mess it up, and pretty badly! So, I'll just leave it to the people who know best…hint hint

elven-cat2: I'm really glad you enjoyed the cantina scene! I was beginning to think "oh no, someone's going to be mad because I bastardized the cantina scene!" Good to see that a lot of people liked it!

SOONsoonSOON: Haha yes…Anakin baked like a cookie! I like that idea…yeah, Obi-Wan here isn't much of a savior, more of like a "WTF is going on with you?" kind of character. Still, more will be revealed! Soon soon soon! Thanks for reviewing!!

TheSummoningDark: Hehe, thank you very much! I could sure go for some blue milk right about now…

SkyBlueSw: Hehe I devote too much of my time on Anakin and Leia, simply because they're easier for me to write! But here's some Padmé and Luke time…they will soon have a big piece of the action as well!

ILDV: Haha! I hope this chapter answered some of the lightsaber needs…for Luke, anyway! I figured Aurra Sing might still have a few lightsabers, but I never thought to have Anakin take one…hmm…Anakin giving Artoo a lightsaber? Wow, that actually would have been a good idea! I wish I had thought of that sooner…I think it's too late now!

Padmé Amaidala N. Skywalker: Hope this cleared up all the questions about Luke being quiet about Padmé! And thank you for your encouragement…I'm actually hoping to get an internship at a publishing company, so I figure that writing is a great way to practice my English and psychology majors!!

The Chaotic Soul of Demons: Ah yes…Artoo…geez, this is such a cop-out, but I always have trouble writing the astromech droids because…beeps just don't translate well into written dialogue! So I guess that while Anakin and Leia were scouting out the Hoth cantina, Artoo waited outside, since the cantina doesn't serve "his kind". Droid rascism!!

akasailorsea: I'm so glad you think so! Sometimes I think I confuse myself with my own writing…

Beth Weasley: Haha! I'm sure you're an HP fan like myself. Hope you enjoyed HPDH! And I hope you're out of your fanfic rut…they're horrible to get into! I sometimes find myself in one, but all we need is good inspiration…whoo yeah!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Well, this update didn't come too quickly, but I hope it satisfied you!!

mlhkvh5: Aw, thanks for your review!! Though I decided not to omit the part where Luke tells her about how time and passed and about Anakin (thought it would be too boring), I hope this chapter was good for you! Happy ending? Hmm...maybe…

Jedi Master Arie Skywalker: I love Anakin too! But I also love Luke…when I was ten years old, I had a gigantic crush on Luke! Ten years later and I still have it!

DanaeMariSkywalker: I'm glad you liked my characterizations! Did I really make Dengar that noticeable?!

Cibbler: Yup, Leia goes from being "Grr I hate you!" to "Dad, I had a bad dream!" in this chapter! Thanks for reviewing!

fictionfrek101: Hope I satisfied you, thanks!

mooneasterbunny: Haha thank you!

brolly501: Thanks a lot!

Sentrosi: Ohh, hope you had fun at camping!!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and everyone who reads this story in general! Please, help me make this story amazing by telling me what you liked and didn't like about it…every review and thought helps! Kama ta kido!!!


	15. Preparation

Disclaimer: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Note: Less description…more talk, and more action. That's what I want to write this time around!

Ameliora

Chapter 15: Preparation

by ArchFaith

His head felt unbearably heavy, and his powers of vision and sound seemed to be corrupted; in a vain attempt to soothe his aching skull, he raised a dizzy hand to his forehead.

_Luke…he must be…_

He was gasping, trying to sit up as his exhausted fingers nearly slipped off his sweating face. His heart pounded with a quick uncertainty; oh yes, everything was going to be just fine, in the long run. Right…?

The world seemed to spin around him as he saw flashes of light in all directions, the only constant thing being the paralyzing spot where he lay, immobile save for his wandering thoughts.

_We have to get to Coruscant as soon as…possible…_

Horribly ill, as though he would vomit. He had not felt this physically sick in a long time—over twenty years, in fact. His machinery-ridden body had seen fit to eliminate all forms of human sickness from his system. Perhaps there had been some advantages to being more machine than man, after all…

_Leia, _he called weakly, knowing that she was near and yet unable to locate her precisely.

His arm descended down to his side as he squeezed his eyes shut, still breathing heavily. His entire body felt numb; he could barely move a few fingers as he felt the slow mist of unconsciousness begin to take control. He did not feel frightened; he knew that Leia was close by, somewhere. Strange, that it was she whom he had to rely on at the moment, when he had been so adamant about protecting her in the last few days. Nevertheless, he had a certain feeling that she was less inclined to give in to this…_stupor_…than he was…she had more experience in such things.

"You'll be fine, Anakin," a tired voice whispered, from somewhere near him. He had slowly descended down into the lumpy depths of the dirty mattress; he felt almost as though he would sink into oblivion as a stray hand gently brushed against his shoulder to give him a sloppy yet reassuring squeeze. He was barely able to catch the last syllable before succumbing to the darkness.

-

"Princess?!" he nearly screamed, bolting upright in the small, cramped bed. He was sweating profusely; water gathered in beads against his face as he clutched the dirty blue mattress with a sudden feeling of dread descending upon him. "Leia!"

A slight shifting noise from above him served to greatly calm his fears; in a moment the now-familiar face leaned over the side of the top bunk, brown eyes glistening in an annoyed yet quizzical manner. In the corner of the darkened, a few electronic beeps sounded from the shadows; Artoo turned his domed head towards the confused young man with a questioning response.

"What is it?" Leia asked with a yawn, squinting to see him through the darkness. Her coolness was evident even as she woke.

He was still panting; though he had dreamt of nothing that night, he still felt as though there had been reason for alarm. Taking a few moments to compose himself, he stared back up at her with a calmed expression upon his face. "Nothing," he replied with a frown. "I just…I suppose I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Me? Alright?" she answered, a tired smile growing against her face. With a sigh, she pushed the loose brown strands of her hair away from her face. "What about you?"

"I'm fine," he answered. In the corner of his mind, a tiny realization suddenly materialized; what started off as a small inkling now blossomed into a full-blown comprehension as he struggled to recall the events of the past night. "What happened to me last night?"

Leia grinned, a quick giggle emerging from her normally serious face. "For a former dark lord of the Sith, you sure are a lightweight." She shifted restlessly, propping her face up with her hands as she rolled onto her stomach. "Just like Luke, I guess."

He narrowed his eyes as he continued to look up at her, struggling to focus on her face. He felt sluggish and exhausted; bathed in sweat, he settled back down onto the bed, propping himself up with his arms. He felt as though he had been run through by a spaceship; his insides felt twisted and raw, and every small sound was amplified into a pounding headache. He felt the numbness in his legs, and it was all he could do to shift onto his side as he ran an exhausted hand through his wet hair.

Leia watched him, the smile slowly disappearing off her face. "You don't look too well," she commented, cocking her head.

"Obviously," Anakin replied tersely, some of his old dark habits returning as he glared up at her.

"You've never had alcohol before?" Leia asked, quickly working to suppress her guilty amusement. Though there was a small part of her that felt sympathy for her father, the whole spectacle was indeed amusing. Anakin, in the brief time that she had known him had proven himself to be impulsive, fearless, and protective; though he had the knowledge of a much older man, his youthful exterior suggested that he still did not know much of a world beyond boredom and discipline. Much like Luke had been, she mused; looking down at Anakin's exhausted body, she was suddenly reminded of Luke's own prone form, lying face down on a bunk after the raucous celebration on Yavin IV, following the destruction of the first Death Star. Apparently there had never been any cause for Luke to celebrate back on the moisture farm; two small glasses of wine and he had called it a night. Han, on the other hand…

"Is it a surprise to you?" Anakin answered, his head sinking back down onto the lumpy pillow. "Jedi were not allowed to partake of any of these…entertainments."

Leia nodded, propping her head up with her hands as Artoo gently shook back and forth on his stubby legs, apparently engaging in what could be considered a mechanical chuckle. The night before had been a successful outing; they had spoken with Dengar, and managed to secure a ride on his ship in exchange for a small part of their money. The rest of the night had been spent in the small, closet-like room off to the side of the cantina; the spiced wine was not exactly high end, but after all the obstacles and negotiations they had been through, it was good enough.

Spending time with Han had softened some of Leia's reluctance to enjoy herself; she had sat through too many drinking sessions with the captain and his first mate to refuse a drink when stressful times came calling. To her mild surprise, Anakin elected to help her finish the bottles; in two hours' time, she found herself nearly carrying him back to their dormitory, supporting his sluggish body against hers as they continued to speak in low tones.

Alcohol, as always, loosened one's tongue considerably; for both, it had been the first in-depth conversation they had engaged in for quite some time. They had talked of many things, the contents of which seemed hazy to their still-recovering minds; politics, and the art of the ambassador; the concept of tyranny and the will of the ignorant masses; and, to her own mild surprise, their own experiences with love and emotion.

In all her life Leia had never known one with such a dual personality as Anakin Skywalker; as Darth Vader he had been cold and ruthless, the same man who had quietly stood behind her as her adopted planet had been blown into oblivion. Yet, as Anakin, her father—he was warm and amiable, if a bit impulsive. Though parts of his darkness remained, it seemed that the change in his appearance had brought back more than just a few buried sentiments.

_Well? Did I know more about these things than you expected? _came a suddenly intrusive thought. Anakin was sitting up now, and in one instant he swung his legs over the side of the mattress, planting his bare feet down upon the cold ground.

_Sure, if you don't count all the years you spent with that mask for company, _Leia answered. Though the comment was meant to be serious, it sparked with it a rare moment of dark humor; the corners of Anakin's mouth twitched as he unsuccessfully attempted to stand. He groaned, grinding his teeth together as he pushed himself off the bed; his mind, however, was apparently more attuned to his desires than his body was. In another instant he sank down again, a deadening exhaustion coming over him as he leaned back against the wall.

"So this is what alcohol does to one's body," he thought observantly as Leia swung her own legs down over the side of the tall bunk. "I feel so…"

"Hung over?" Leia finished, gracefully hopping down from her bed onto the floor. Frowning, she turned to him and sat down next to him on the lumpy sheets. "Give it a few hours and you'll be fine." She smiled in spite of the situation; seeing her father so vulnerable and fatigued, she felt as though it was she who should protect him, for the time being.

"You should not have—"

"Don't blame me. You should have known when to quit it."

"How could I have known? I've never had alcohol before."

"So then maybe you never should have started."

Anakin sighed, but worked to suppress a tired grin as he looked at Leia's annoyed face. "You sound very much like your mother, Princess."

This sudden inference quickly softened her emotions; cocking her head to one side, she crossed her arms over her chest as she looked over to the wall next to Artoo, in an attempt to hide her slight embarrassment. The packs they had hauled from the destroyed shuttle were propped up against the grainy, peeling corner. "You need something to eat," she said reflectively. "I think we might have some rations left."

Anakin sank back down onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as Leia advanced towards the packs they had piled into a corner of the room. In an attempt to soothe him, Artoo rolled up to the bed and beeped emphatically; though the droid did not exactly know the effects of alcohol on a human mind, he did know that the repercussions could be extremely painful for humans. Anakin reached out a tired hand, and fondly patted Artoo's domed head as Leia came towards him, a metal canister clutched in her fingers.

"They're stale, but they'll do," she said, handing it to him as she settled at the foot of his bed. "We still have plenty of time before we have to meet with Dengar, so you can sober up before then."

"Good," Anakin said briefly, opening the metal container with some discouragement. A pile of crumbled biscuits lay at the bottom of the canister—reaching it, he drew out a scant handful as he labored to speak. "Then we can finally send Luke a transmission and let him know we're alright."

His statement was corroborated by Artoo's enthusiastic beeps; Leia cocked her head and smiled as the small robot gently shook back and forth with anticipation. Luke and Artoo had always had a bond together; since helping Luke to destroy the Death Star, the droid had felt a close attachment to the blonde farmboy from Tatooine.

"Can we skip the part where I accidentally shoot you?" Leia asked grimly, settling back against the wall as Anakin shifted the bread crumbs around in his hand.

Despite his headache, the Jedi looked back at her with an amused glance. "We _could _leave that part out," he said reflectively as he put the crumb-filled container down onto the floor. "Still, he's going to be more than a bit surprised."

Leia shook her head in doubt. "I'm sure he's found a way to keep himself occupied."

-

She dreamt of him once again, as she had seen him last; his shoulder-length hair streaked with sweat, his wild eyes full of anger and contempt as she pulled away from him, the red in his pupils only amplified by the lava and magma that bubbled all around them.

_Anakin, please…Ani…_

A sudden electronic chirp awakened her from her heavy slumber; in an instant she was sitting up in bed, weakly propping herself up with her hands as the light violet nightgown clung against her bare shoulder. "Arfour?" she asked, still half-asleep, her mind still dancing with visions of the clashing of the lightsabers, the flow of the fiery lake. "What…"

_I no longer have to wait and hope, _she thought reflectively, her consciousness returning to her as she gazed expectantly towards the small droid stationed in the corner of her old bedroom. _Anakin will be with us soon._

Still, the cloud of doubt and worry surrounded her troubled head like a dark halo; though she did not doubt everything Luke told her, the fact that Anakin was now three days late from their agreed meeting time did nothing to calm her nerves.

The small droid's emergency light had now activated; in the darkness of the room he stuck out his mechanical third leg and slowly wheeled towards her, a series of low beeps and whistles punctuating the stillness of the night. It was not the first time an astromech droid had watched over her in this way; the last she could remember, it had been Artoo Detoo who had done the honors. Still, Artoo's sensitive scanning devices had failed to detect the cybernetic insects Zam Wessell had sent to dispatch her; Anakin had swiftly taken care of that.

"What is it?" she asked gently, cocking her head as the droid came closer to her bed, still emitting a series of electronic noises. A small slip of paper emerged from a side slot near the dome; reaching out, Padmé gracefully took the sheet into her fingers; frowning as she turned it over in the dark room.

"Arfour, what—"

The door to her room suddenly slid open; in what seemed like a fraction of a second Luke was standing by her bed, his right hand clutching the newly-rediscovered lightsaber that had been bequeathed to Padmé by Obi-Wan. "Are you alright?" he asked breathlessly, sinking down onto her bed; his blonde hair was tousled from sleep, and the undershirt he wore clung to his slender body as he knit his eyebrows in confusion. "I heard Arfour..."

"I'm fine," she answered, looking back to him. She held the small paper up in her fingers with a serious look upon her face. "This is what Arfour was trying to say."

Luke took the small slip, his eyes dancing over the still-wet print as he turned to glance at his mother. "A transmission…from the Hoth system," he said quickly, his heart suddenly growing tight in his chest as he threw a quick look at the droid.

For one quick second, mother and son looked at one another with an excited yet inhibited air; though both were extremely relieved to finally hear some word from Anakin, several mixed feelings rose to the surface. Crumpling the slip of paper between his hands, Luke frowned to himself as he knelt down next to the small droid. _You'd better have one hell of an explanation, Anakin_, he thought angrily as he opened Arfour's concealed transmission panel. _Unless taking a detour to Hoth was something I missed in the plan. _Anxiously he waited as the droid's innards started to buzz, waiting as the transmission was received from its far away origin.

Padmé absently bit her lip, gathering the heavy blankets to her as she watched Luke flip several small switches inside the droid's panel. Part of her was alert and waiting; anxious to hear from her husband, longing to hear his calming voice after years of imprisonment within the carbonite. Still—the other part of her was reluctant and almost repulsed. Even though Luke had been deliberately scant on details about Anakin's life as Darth Vader, she could surmise what kind of terror he had caused—what kind of destruction he had wrought. One with so much hatred—so much anger—as the Anakin she had known could not have left the galaxy unscathed while she slumbered in her stone tomb. Palpatine would not have allowed him to become soft once his soul had hardened, become impenetrable…

A long interlude of loud static now emerged from the small speaker on Arfour's dome; leaning back, Luke slowly climbed back onto Padmé's bed, putting his hand on his mother's trembling shoulder as a snippet of sound emerged.

"Luke…" came a whispered syllable, from amidst the loud hum of static. "I—much time—"

Though the voice was partially obscured by the atmospheric noises, the tone was unmistakable—Anakin's voice. Padmé felt her body stiffen; she quickly placed a hand against Luke's own, and he put an arm around her shoulder in an attempt to calm her as the message continued.

"Listen…have time to explain…an explosion aboard….Endor. We crashed on Hoth…

I managed…Echo…"

Luke frowned; Anakin's transmission had clearly been affected by the long distance it had traveled to reach Coruscant. He silently strained his ears, narrowing his eyes as he struggled to understand what his father was trying to communicate. The long pauses and static noises did not alleviate the situation, either; even when the static cleared and Anakin's voice filtered out loud and strong, it was still muffled and warped.

"…found a pilot …myself and Artoo...far as Naboo. Our funds are low…listen closely…Lake Retreat…they will know…care, son."

The voice dissipated back into the dome, leaving a small trace of static behind before the message completely evaporated. Luke shook his head in frustration, sighing as he looked to his mother. "It's almost completely destroyed," he said softly. "So he ended up on Hoth…he's going to have to tell me about that one." A small part of him refused to believe that one man, no matter how powerful a Jedi he may be, could have survived the barren wastelands of Hoth; yet, Luke reminded himself, this was Anakin they were talking about—Anakin, who had survived the lava flows of Mustafar in his former quest of hatred. Surviving Hoth was probably akin to a padawan's obstacle course for a dark lord of the Sith.

Padmé, however, did not seem to be listening. She started blankly at the dome, into the small slot where the message had filtered out. Her heart beat rapidly within her chest; merely hearing his voice, hearing the tones that were no longer tinged with evil as they had been so many years ago…

She gave Luke's hand a tight squeeze, and smiled softly as she turned her head. "Your father often finds himself in these situations," she said, her smile breaking into a grin. "I'm sure you follow in his footsteps." She turned back to Arfour, who was now staring inquisitively at mother and son. "I know the place he spoke about," she continued. "The Lake Retreat on Naboo. My family owns it—or used to own it. I don't know anymore." She stood up, her hand still clasped around Luke's fingers as she beckoned for him to stand. "But I am sure it still exists. We have to leave, Luke. We must get to Naboo as quickly as possible."

"We can't just leave right away," Luke protested, his eyes widening. "Padmé, this is dangerous. If word were to get out that were still alive, you would be captured by the Imperial remnants. Not to mention that I'm not the most popular Rebel in Coruscant right now." He stood up, shaking his head as he stared past her, towards the darkened skyscrapers that lay far beyond the reach of the large viewing window. "We have to have some sort of plan to get out of here."

As much as she would have liked to argue with him, he was right. It would be quite foolhardy of them to try and to get to Naboo without a failsafe plan that would save them from discovery. Her sudden impulsiveness dying down, she quickly let go of Luke's hand, folding her arms over her chest as her mind raced with possibility.

"What do you propose we do?" she said, after a few moments' pause.

"That's a good question," her son replied, furrowing his brows as he turned back to look at her. All these schemes and plans; since rescuing Anakin from the Death Star, his whole life has been based around carefully crafting lies and secrets. Still—it was better to throw himself wholeheartedly into a cause than to only half-care for it. He would already be branded a traitor if the rest of the Alliance found out about all his doings, the most offensive being the help he had given to the very same man who had ordered the destruction of so many innocent lives. And he was sure that Leia would never forgive him for the lies he had told her, though he was not quite sure how Padmé would factor into the situation when—if—he would ever be able to introduce her to Leia. There was no doubt in his mind that Leia and Padmé would eventually meet; still, there was no telling how Leia would initially react once he told her that Anakin—Vader—lived.

"We could hire a private craft," Padmé whispered reflectively, cutting into his thoughts. "I'm sure plenty of transports would be willing to take us. The route from Coruscant to Naboo is well-traveled by politicians and tourists."

"That's always a possibility," Luke answered absently, staring once again out into the darkened landscape of the city. If he had been alone, with no other way of getting offplanet, he would have taken his chances right away; alone, with no one other than himself to protect, he would have been fine being attacked by hostile Imperials or bounty hunters. Despite his scant time with Yoda, his true abilities as a Jedi had shone through, and he had proven himself more than capable of putting up a worthy fight. But still—with the responsibility of protecting Padmé on his hands, he could not put himself into a bad situation. She was still weak from the carbonite, and recovering from the effects of hibernation sickness. Strenuous activity was quite out of the question—and if they took any risks getting to Naboo, she would prove to be essential deadweight in a battle.

"There has to be some other way," he whispered to himself, as Padmé cocked her head in thought. Though she did not reply, she too shared his sentiments; inwardly, she cursed herself for being so useless in such a time of crucial importance. Though she had been well-trained in the arts of defense, the battleground was not her field; all her victories and triumphs had been earned in the throne room of Theed, or the chamber of the Galactic Senate. Though she enjoyed the various romps with Obi-Wan and Anakin and the adventures they shared together, she felt that her true place—the only place in which she really felt comfortable—was on the side of democracy, arguing her positions with words instead of a blaster.

Caught in a silent reverie, they stood quietly for a few moments, both with eyes averted to the floor. Arfour, in seeming confusion, emitted a few gentle beeps; he had wondered what sort of message he was relaying, but now seemed downfallen at the sudden change in tone it had brought his masters.

A quick, sudden thought came to Luke's mind as he weighed the options now open to them. He could never allow his mother to be transported on a craft where they could be discovered and captured; his protective instincts gently took hold of them, and he silently resolved that he would never let harm befall Padmé as long as she traveled with him. This left the question of who exactly they could trust; in the dark streets of CoCo City, there were not many honest souls willing to step forward. No, there was only one other person in the world besides Leia whom Luke could trust with the life of his mother. And seeing as how Leia was unaware of anything that had been going on, there was only one guess as to who it could be.

"I know a way," he said quickly, shifting his eyes to Arfour. "Arfour, get me a signal. Tap into a feed from Endor, on the Alliance lines."

Padmé frowned as Luke strode forward to place his hand the droid's now-swiveling dome. "What is it? What are we going to do?"

"I know a ship that can make the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs," Luke said, a slight smile dawning on his face. "The captain's an old friend of mine; he's gotten us through a lot of scrapes."

"Are you sure we can trust this…captain?" she asked, eyes narrowing as she looked down at Arfour.

"I'd trust him with my life," Luke replied, tapping the droid's head once again. "And besides…he knows a little bit about being stuck in carbonite himself."

-

"Yo! You coming, or what?"

Han slightly raised his head, dark blonde strands brushing against the exposed wires of the still-damaged dashboard; using his arms as support, he had successfully overslept once again. Running his hand through his unkempt, he briefly glanced at the time sensor and scowled in frustration.

"I told ya, I'm tired! I ain't hungry, so get going!"

He could hear Lando's voice chuckling from the corridor of the Falcon. "That woman's gonna starve you to death. Fine, I'll bring back something for you in a bit. C'mon, Chewie, this boy is too lovesick to make any sense."

"Shut up!" he thundered as another chuckle emanated from down the hallway. Sinking his head back down into his arms, he heard a concerned, hesitant growl from Chewbacca as the tall Wookiee paused in the entranceway of the cockpit. "I'm fine, okay?" he said in exasperation. "Just give me some time to myself for a bit. Bring me back some booze, or something." Chewbacca shuffled uncomfortably in the doorway; at times like these, Han knew himself best. Letting out a concerned growl, the Wookiee briefly placed a hairy paw against Han's tousled hair, smoothing the blonde strands back against his neck. This was all; in the next moment Chewbacca had disappeared, following after Lando down to dinner at the cooking station.

The great Han Solo, reduced to an angry mass of being. It had been days since he'd listened to Leia's mysterious message; there had been no sign of her since. As per Leia's instructions, however, he had not reported her missing to the Alliance; besides, they would never possibly believe it even if he did report it. Leia was a woman of reason and intelligence; she was the last person in the galaxy to launch an impulsive ambush on a man she had no reason to suspect. What was worse was the fact that it seemed other factors were present in the situation; what kind of emotions did Leia hold for that Naberrie character, anyway?

The wait for news was nerve-wracking; what was more, he himself couldn't believe that he was so desperate to hear from her. He had spent the last few days practically living in the cockpit, desperately tracking all the small crafts that had taken off from Endor Base within the last week. He had located what he thought was Naberrie's shuttle—a thermal detonator transporter—but it had quietly disappeared off the charts without being noted by the Alliance.

He slept well enough, but after a few hours would listlessly return to the captain's seat, tired eyes still on the lookout for any new developments. Lando would tease him to no end; Chewbacca merely sighed in frustration at seeing him so distraught. And Threepio, ever the annoyance, continued to bumble around the Falcon, picking out every little mistake and oversight that the team had made in their repairs.

_Delightful._

A sudden sound from the dashboard interrupted his half-slumber; one of the main transmission links suddenly flashed red, blinking under his hand as he raised his head in a quick excitement. In an instant he pushed it; an electronic voice began. "Incoming…a transmission originating from Cor—"

"God, get on with it!" Han yelled, pushing the button in exasperation. The voice stopped and was quickly replaced with a very familiar tone, much warmer than the electronic voice's icy accents.

"Han? Han, old buddy, do you read me?"

"Luke?" he whispered, relieved yet crestfallen at the same time. As much as he loved the younger man, Luke was not the person he needed to hear at the moment. "What're ya doing on Coruscant? Thought you were on your way to Tatooine."

"Things…came up," Luke replied, voice crackling as the transmission grew slightly faint. "Listen—I need you to do something important for me."

"Important?!" Han bellowed, nearly rising out of his seat. His frustration had grown to dangerous levels; not only was he nearly out of his mind looking for Leia, he was now being asked to do some errand that he knew almost nothing about. _Did that carbonite make me slow or something? _he asked himself as his eyes narrowed in anger. "Next thing you'll be telling me is that you were in on Leia's plan to sneak aboard Naberrie's shuttle."

"What?" the voice immediately responded, in genuine surprise. "What are you talking about?"

Han sighed in frustration. "Look, let me just get one thing straight to you. I ain't movin' unless you tell me what's going on around here. You and I have been from one end of the galaxy to the other; I know you by now. Everyone's have been sneaking around and I don't appreciate being in the dark. You of all people should know that."

There was a momentary pause on the line; in an instant, Luke's voice filtered back into the transmission. "Alright, Han," it said slowly. "You do deserve to know."

"Well thank you, Mister Jedi," Han whispered mockingly. "So tell me…did Vader really die in that explosion, or what?"

-

To be continued.

Next chapter: Anakin and Leia get aboard Dengar's transport to witness and encounter a slightly strange face; meanwhile, Han's nerves are pushed to the limit as he realizes what exactly everyone (and I mean everyone!) has been hiding from him as Padmé and Luke prepare to leave Coruscant. Stay tuned!

I'M BAAAAACK! I truly apologize for the length of time it look to deliver Chapter 15 of Ameliora. My explanation? I wasn't in the "mood". I've been a Star Wars fan for eleven years now, and my "mood" goes back and forth from "OMG hardcore Jedi!" to "um…Star Wars, I like that". By the time I finished Chapter 14, I was slipping back into a neutral fan mood, and decided that I should wait until I'm back into hardcore mode before writing again. I used to be afraid that I would stop liking Star Wars (gasp!) but it's been eleven years. It's here to stay.

That said, I hope you all liked this very long Chapter 15! I wanted to add some comedic elements into the story, like Anakin being hungover and Han being all worried and paranoid. Hopefully I succeeded, and things are shaping up well for our characters to soon cross paths…whether they do so in one piece remains to be seen. Anyway, I would ask you to please review my story; I love hearing people's input about what they've just read, and I also love hearing plot suggestions that could be worked into the story. The plot of my fanfic is not set in stone, and I've heard a lot of helpful comments that I've taken to heart and decided to work with. Help me out and review guys!

elven-cat2: Thank you for your input! Yeah, looking back on it, Padmé and Luke going back to Padmé's apartment was a bit contrived; fortunately, they'll be leaving it soon. As for the thermal detonator, well…that will have to wait for a bit, hehehe.

ILDV: Another new chappie right here too!

SkyBlueSw: Well, they're all moving towards each other now…

x Rajah x: Haha I had a crush on Luke when I was ten years old. At that point, he was a "big boy" for me. Now I'm older than he is when the Original Trilogy starts. Wow, eleven years gone by already?!

Charlie Hayden: Patience my friend…you'll find out who the other hunter is soon enough! Also, Obi-Wan does not give Padmé Anakin's lightsaber (as you pointed out, he already gave it to Luke in ANH and Luke loses it in ESB). Rather, he gives Padmé a brand new lightsaber.

The Chaotic Soul of Demons: Yes, poor droids! I think the next chapter should have some Threepio action!

XXX: Me? A Sithlord? No, a Sith Lady! Glad you liked the idea of Padmé's apartment!

VFSNAKE: You shall have to wait, my friend! As for Anakin, when he finds out Padmé is alive it will be glorious and horrible and hard for me to write!

SOONsoonSOON: Nope, the lightsaber is a new one Obi-Wan left for Padmé to use. Mysteries abound!

Second-Last Herald-Mage: Boba Fett? Intriguing possibility…

DanaeMariSkywalker: Yay, someone knows Dengar! I was beginning to think I was going into the EU too much and I sort of want to stick to the movies. Also, Luke doesn't have his green lightsaber anymore because he threw it away on the second Death Star, remember? So in my fic he only has one.

Sentrosi: Oh my, Christian camp! Sounds...merciful.

TheSummoningDark: You'll just have to wait and see!

carmsfic: I know this didn't come very fast, but hopefully you still liked it!

Alien Roxi: Yeah…it's been way too long since I updated. But I hope you liked this chapter and everything else I threw in!

Yashida: Thank you, I hope you liked this new chapter!

Krimzonrayne: Yeek! So, do you have any suggestions for what I could improve on? Sentence structure, details, etc? I'm glad you liked my story, but if something is not right with it, please help me figure out how to make it even better.

WeJm18: Soon enough for you?

dragonflysky: Is it?

Code name: Anrui Yuy: Ah, I'm so glad you like my story! I always like hearing people's opinions about it, and it really encourages me that you think I pulled off the corny regeneration machine storyline. As for Watto…well, someone familiar was needed in order for Luke to find Padmé in carbonite. As much as I hate him, I didn't want some random original character doing the honors.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! All your input really encourages me and helps me recognize what kind of fanfic I want to envision. To everyone who didn't review, please do! Even a one word answer helps me tweak this story in the right direction. As for the next chapter…it'll be up when it's up (but it WILL be up). Feel the Force guys!!


	16. En Route

Note: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Ameliora

Chapter 16: En Route

by ArchFaith

"…take care, son."

Anakin Skywalker frowned, tapping the buttons on the complicated dashboard once more. The control system aboard Dengar's ship was quite different from the regulation, factory-standard systems manufactured by the major ship-building companies; according to the ship's computer, his transmission had been sent, from the far reaches of a ruined base on Hoth to a small Arfour unit somewhere on Coruscant. Still, the _Punishing One_'s transmission levels appeared to be low on power; apparently, the bounty hunter did not think it important to replenish the ship's long-distance communication systems. Well, no matter; even if the message were to become lost, they could always contact Luke once they had arrived safely on Naboo.

"Able to reach your companion?" a gruff voice asked from behind him. With a rough smile, Dengar appeared behind him, his hands on his hips as he patted the back of the captain's seat. "Apologies if my systems aren't quite up to par with what you use."

"It's alright," Anakin replied nonchalantly. "Should have worked well enough."

"Good to hear," the hunter responded. "Your woman's already given me the necessary payments. We'll be going in about fifteen minutes."

"Understood," Anakin replied. "I'm glad we can be of mutual service to each other."

Dengar gave him a short, stiff bow. "The pleasure's all mine."

_This could be ugly, _Anakin thought to himself as moved away from the dashboard, allowing the bounty hunter to sit down at the captain's chair to test out his controls. Bounty hunters were slippery beings indeed; though a certain code of honor existed amongst them, there was no telling what kind of circumstances dictated a good outcome. Though they placed their faith in Dengar and his vessel, they needed to be on guard at all times; there was no telling when the time would come to fight.

He walked down the length of the short corridor, his worn, dirty boots echoing against the cold steel floor. Stopping in front of a doorway, he quickly punched the controls; the door slid open, revealing a space roughly the size of a large walk-in closet. It was completely bare, save for two cots which had been propped up on opposite sides of the wall; thin blankets had been carelessly thrown on the mattresses. In another corner of the room were the packs of supplies they had hauled from the destroyed shuttle; much smaller than when they had first started, their rations were nearly almost consumed. The only advantage to this fact was that the packs were easier to carry; mobility was a quality they would need to possess.

"Everything alright?" came a voice from the bed. Leia was seated on one of the cots, her boot-clad feet tapping the floor as she sat up; in her hands she clasped the long blaster, her trusted weapon since leaving Endor. To her and Anakin's surprise, one of Aurra Sing's Gamorrean guards had deposited their blasters outside the door of their small dormitory a few minutes before they made their way over to Dengar's ship. It seemed everyone on Echo Base had been talking about this unlikely pair of bounty hunters—the young man with the fearsome temper, and the short woman who seemed to have an unending supply of confidence. Though they had been basically overlooked and dismissed by most of the lowlife denizens on the base, a few had taken a marked interest in them. Some were merely curious; others seemed eager to take advantage.

Still, Sing had managed to keep her word, though Leia surmised that she had only returned their weapons because she felt they were not a threat. Though she and Anakin had been short on funds, Leia had managed to secure a good deal on blaster shells from one of the slave traders before boarding Dengar's ship; there was no telling when they might be of use.

Next to her, Artoo let out a few questioning beeps.

"Seems like it," Anakin answered. With a sigh, he sunk down onto the opposite bunk, a tired expression upon his face. "But remember—"

"—be on guard," Leia finished, a faint smile illuminating her serious face. Her fingers danced up and down the butt of the blaster, quickly snapping the used shells out of place. "I think I can take of myself at this point."

Anakin leaned forwards, propping his elbows against his knees. "Just checking," he said, with a half-smile. His momentary grin quickly turned serious, however, as he suddenly thought of the conditions to their transport.

"We haven't met this 'colleague' of his yet," he said in a low voice. "It's making me a little uneasy."

"Then let's not go looking for him," Leia replied. "Dengar said he was pretty aloof. I hope it stays that way."

Anakin shook his head stubbornly. "We'd have a better chance at surviving this if we knew what this other hunter was like."

Leia sighed in slight exasperation. "Looking for trouble again, I see. Look, if you want to go check this man out, be my—"

Her words were interrupted by the sudden thrusting of the ship's engines; in a few seconds a low hum had descended upon the entire ship, coupled with the strong sounds of the engines turning below them. "Sounds like we're finally getting out of here," Leia observed, her fingers absently clutching the rifle once again.

"With our luck, the ship will explode once we leave base," Anakin remarked suddenly. Artoo turned his dome, letting out what appeared to be a series of chuckles as Leia gently shook her head, a thin smile set against her lips.

"Let's just hope Luke's having better luck than we are," she mused, propping her head against her hands as she leaned forward, elbows balancing on her knees.

In spite of the situation, Anakin grinned. "That old Skywalker charm will see him through."

-

The streets and hangars of CoCo City buzzed with workday action; the morning had begun with a renewed sense of duty, further strengthened by the copious amounts of alcohol consumed in bars the night before. From every nook and cranny workers and employees crawled out, some delighting in their newfound success, others cursing their helpless misfortune. Dwarfed by the immense buildings, and seemingly aware of their insignificance to the rest of the galaxy, the commuters scuttled along the dirty streets, most hurrying towards the cargo areas to retrieve new shipments of goods. Others scampered into the various agencies and offices that had managed to squeeze themselves into the cramped city blocks; yet others headed straight for the public air transporters, which zoomed off into the skylanes bound for other regions of the planet.

At this time of morning, not many couples were to be found; after all, morning was a time of commerce and profit, scarcely fit for companionship or entertainment. Yet, through the throngs of citizens two cloak-clad figures walked hand in hand; quickly striding past the large open spaces of Pom Plaza, scarcely daring to stop for even one moment. A red-plated astromech droid rolled swiftly behind them, every now and then slowing down to turn its curious domed head this way and that. Having never been to Coruscant, Arfour's sensors were currently on overload; from the carts selling spicy ahrisa and nutmeat to the cages of tame Kashyyyk land shrimp on display in front of an ornate pet store, the little droid had never before guessed that such a variety of life could exist through the galaxy.

Sensing that they were missing part of their group, one of the figures quickly turned his head to look over his shoulder. A pair of azure blue eyes, partially obscured by the dark blue synthfabric, darted furtively over to the awestruck droid. "Arfour," he said firmly. "Come on. We don't have time for this."

Letting out a quick series of whistles, the droid quickly resumed its advance, rolling up to its masters with a low, apologetic beep.

Resuming their brisk pace, man, woman, and droid soon found themselves in a relatively quiet side street; aside from a few loitering teenagers, the small path was populated only by a few storage bins and trash receptacles. The man paused, scanning the area before deeming it safe to speak. "He should be arriving soon," Luke whispered, turning back to his companion. "A few minutes or so should do it."

A sudden breeze swept through the alleyway, causing the woman's white cloak to flutter gracefully against her body. She folded her arms over her chest in anticipation, revealing a complete replica of her familiar battle suit beneath the heavy fabric. "The ship's name is…the _Millennium Falcon_?" Padmé asked, frowning, the hood rustling gently against her tightly coiled hair.

Luke nodded. "To everyone in the Alliance, that is. When we're on the move, the ship's legally registered with the name _Jaina's Light_. That's what will be showing up on the each of the radar systems in CoCo Town."

Padmé sighed, pulling her cloak tighter around her body as the artificial wind gently ruffled Luke's hair. "And you trust this man completely?" she asked, looking up at her son. "There's no chance of him selling us out to…the remnants of the Empire?"

Luke firmly shook his head. "I trust Han with my life," he said gravely. "We've been through too much for him to turn his back on me now."

"He didn't seem to take it very well two days ago," Padmé replied emphatically, recalling the litany of curses and profanity that Luke had received during his long transmission to Endor.

Luke scratched the back of his head, drawing his eyes to the ground. "He was just worried about Leia, that's all," he said in a low voice. "And to tell you the truth…so am I."

As it turned out, Luke had not been the only one with secrets to share; it had taken over two hours for Luke to relate his adventures after his battle with Vader on the second Death Star. Han had already had an inkling of what had become of Vader; he knew Luke too well, and Luke had been unable to completely mask his lie from his comrade's notice. However, to Luke's surprise, the confirmation that Vader had indeed become Ani Naberrie was a fact that seemed to give Han more relief than shock.

_So, let me get this straight…that pretty boy who fixed my ship is Darth Vader, huh? Figures. _

Finding Padmé in carbonite, however—that had been something that Han needed some convincing on. After all, two incredibly coincidental events involving the restoration of long-lost parents did not happen every day. Still, it took only a few minutes of persuasion to make Han see the truth, which he readily accepted after Luke's continual assurance. But he was still quite angry about being played for a fool, left to baby-sit the Alliance on Endor while all kinds of excitement seemed to grip Luke and Leia.

Luke had been eager to hear any information Han could impart; the comment concerning Leia sneaking about a shuttle had triggered an avalanche of fear within him, and he rushed to know what had happened. Apparently, Leia had hidden herself aboard Anakin's shuttle; according to the message left with Threepio, she had been deathly serious regarding her suspicions about Anakin. The boys' plans had been in vain; Leia had been too deft, too skilled at detection to elude their thoughts. So that could only mean she was with Anakin aboard a shuttle that presumably landed—or crashed—on Hoth.

"You told me she could take of herself," Padmé interjected, noting Luke's reflective eyes. "Do you think she's in much danger?"

Luke shook his head in slight frustration. "Maybe," he said simply. "She tried to communicate with me a few days ago—I felt some of her thoughts. Anakin, too…I guess they were with each other when I blocked their thoughts from entering me."

"Then you suppose she and Anakin are together?"

"I guess," Luke answered. _Though I hope they aren't._ He well remembered Leia's acute hatred for Darth Vader and her refusal to acknowledge him as their father—he could only imagine what Leia would do when placed in a situation with Anakin. If she had found out the truth about Ani Naberrie—as well as the fact that Luke had concocted an elaborate scheme to keep his plans hidden from her—then Luke wasn't sure if Anakin would arrive in one piece. Mastery of a lightsaber was nothing compared to the anger and rage of a princess bereft of her throne.

Padmé sighed, not knowing quite what to make of the situation. Luke had told her of the loss of Alderaan due to the Death Star's incredible firepower. Though Vader had not directly ordered the destruction of Leia's home planet, he had done nothing to stop it as Tarkin gave the signal to fire. It was, then, no wonder that Leia should take such a strong stance against Vader—he had indirectly caused the destruction of the planet that was hers to inherit. And her adopted father, Bail…

A few quick beeps from Arfour ended both of their light reveries; with a small screech, the droid shook itself and angled its dome up towards Luke. "No need to tell me," Luke answered, patting the droid's head.

At the prompt, a small slip of paper appeared near the slot on the droid's head. Luke took it up and quickly scanned it. "He's in Hangar Four East. He says he's been waiting here for ages," he read aloud. "We must've taken the long way over."

Padmé nodded absently. "Well, I guess it's time," she said slowly.

Luke nodded gravely, but said nothing in return.

The two stood facing each other in a fleeting moment of silence. A sudden feeling of fear raced through Padmé, seizing her mind as though it had been placed in a vice. She was not afraid to go forth into this new galaxy—as a queen and senator, she has grown accustomed to being thrust into different, unexpected situations. From the new rules and codes she had created as queen, to the controversies she had aroused as a senator, she was used to adversity and uphill battles. But this strange, altered galaxy—one in which Palpatine's Empire had assumed a chokehold on its people, and the only opposing forces were a motley crew of rebels—held a new kind of challenge. It was one that she was willing to face head-on, as she had countless other adversities. Still, she felt her mind racing at the thought of being parted from Luke.

_Luke…_

Though she had never known her son as a child—and had returned in strange circumstances to find him a fully grown man—a sudden tremor of caution raced through her. Though millions of other mothers in the galaxy had years, decades to nurture affection for her children, Padmé's instincts had been forced to rise in only a few days. The last time she had seen Luke, he had been a crying infant, wailing softly as Obi-Wan caressed him in his arms. In the span of only a few minutes, it seemed, he had grown into a young man. A Jedi knight. She quickly brought her hand up to gently touch Luke's face.

"Promise me you'll be safe, Luke," she whispered, looking up into her son's eyes.

Luke smiled, and quickly moved forwards to draw his mother into an embrace. "I'm a decorated commander of the Rebel Alliance…and a Jedi," he said teasingly. "You don't need to worry about me." Though he knew Padmé would be safe traveling with Han aboard the _Falcon_, he could not help but feel the same uncertainty with which he had had bid Anakin goodbye on Endor. The sense that he was about to be separated from a parent whom he never thought he would ever meet suddenly disquieted him. Though he had felt this emotion for Anakin, it seemed awkwardly magnified when he turned towards his mother.

Perhaps it was the fact that she had been so helpless, so confused when she had emerged from the carbonite thawing procedure; he had protected her and looked after her in her time of need. Though Anakin had also required protection in his vulnerable stage, Padmé had needed more than protection; she required comfort, and to an extent, guidance about the new world that had developed around her while she lay dormant within the carbonite. The countless hours of history, explanation, and stories Luke had related to her had brought them closer than he thought possible in the span of only a few days.

So it had been decided: Han would take Padmé aboard the _Falcon_, while Luke would journey with Arfour on his trusty X-wing. Yet it seemed almost cruel to part from his mother after forming their bond in such a short time. But Anakin—and Leia—would be awaiting Luke on Naboo. And Padmé's seemingly impossible arrival would hopefully bridge a gap in their relationship as well. Though somehow, Luke was sure Anakin and Leia did not even have much of a relationship at all.

He slowly pulled away from her, giving her a light kiss on the cheek as he held his hands on her shoulders. "Goodbye, Padmé," he whispered.

Padmé's eyes narrowed slightly, suddenly reminding Luke of Leia's own trembling visage, back on Endor when Luke had told her he was going to face Vader for the last time. Had it really only been about a week or two before? Or years ago? Time seemed to speed up on Coruscant; perhaps he was experiencing the same type of disorientation Padmé had felt upon being recovered from the carbonite.

Padmé blinked, knowing that lingering would only cause suspicion. "Goodbye, Luke," she whispered, giving him a last, quick embrace before she quickly turned, her footsteps echoing along the walls of the narrow passageway. Luke watched her, his face grave as she continued away from him, gently sidling past the small stream of people passing through the alleyway.

As she reached the end of the sidestreet, she could not help but turn back to glance at him once more. Her liquid brown eyes met his azure gaze, and she suddenly wanted to return to him. All the awkward moments of their relationship—the inversion of their roles as mother and son, her innate confusion at finding herself twenty-three years into the future, and the realization that Anakin had spent the last twenty years as a Sithlord—came flooding back to her, and she gave silent thanks that Luke had been there to see her through the fog of incomprehension. Silently hoping the future would hold more clarity, she turned away and went off down the corner of the alley, disappearing from Luke's view.

Unconsciously Luke found his fingers drumming against the new lightsaber which had been so recently bestowed upon him. One of Obi-Wan's lightsabers—in his haste to place Padmé into carbonite as soon as possible, it had probably been the only weapon available for him to give her. As he moved his hands over the hilt of the slightly scratched surface, it suddenly occurred to him that this lightsaber was probably the same one that had bested Anakin on Mustafar; according to Padmé, there had been no other. _So it's come full-circle,_ he thought, mildly bemused as he continued staring off down the alleyway. Silently wondering if his old mentor knew how things would turn out, he quickly tucked his lightsaber behind his heavy cloak.

Rolling up from its spot behind Luke, Arfour uttered a series of low beeps that, Luke assumed, were supposed to be some form of comfort.

"Thanks," he said appreciatively, laying a hand on the droid's domed head. "I'm just hoping she'll like Han."

-

She was sure it had been a mistake.

Tucking the white synthfabric hood back from her head, she quickly glanced upwards at the large, flashing signpost with its blocky Aurebesh labels.

Hangar Four East.

It had to be a mistake, she reasoned; but no. It was a relatively slow day for the East CoCo Hanger facility; while the other, larger hangars handled mostly cargo ships and large transporters, the East CoCo Hangar specialized in passenger vehicles and personal spacecraft. There was only one ship parked in the large, bare space of 4E, and it was far from the sleek, polished spacecraft she had been imagining.

It was a dirty-looking, flat vessel with rusted landing legs, sitting squarely in the center of the hangar. A series of large, burnt out holes, no doubt made by a laser cannon or a large blaster, marred its surface. Though it seemed the ship had originally been a dull grey in color, a few odd-colored surface fixtures had been painted red with no seeming pattern or purpose.

_Luke did say it was a heap of bolts_, Padmé reasoned, her incredulous stare still leveled at the small freighter set before her. Though, she reasoned, it would be far easier to slip past the Imperial remnants if she were to travel in a ship such as this. A larger, more capable-looking ship would surely arouse more suspicion than this barely-functioning mass of junk. As unattractive and beat-up as it was, if it was as fast as Luke claimed it to be, she had no doubt it would be able to transport her to Naboo.

With a resigned sigh, she approached the ship slowly, looking for any sign of movement within the interior. She could clearly see the cockpit from her vantage point on the floor; there was no one within it. Though she did not doubt that Luke placed an incredible amount of trust in this Han Solo, she was also aware that relationships could quickly change. From what she had overheard from Luke and Han's prior conversation, Han had not exactly been thrilled about the prospect of helping out a former Sithlord—especially one who had subjected him to torture following his refusal to divulge any information concerning Luke. She could only hope that Han would be able to lay these negative sentiments aside; though he harbored no ill feelings towards Padmé herself, he might think of her as guilty by association.

With a sudden clanging noise, the _Millenium Falcon_'s metallic landing ramp slowly slid down from the underbelly of the ship, coming to rest with a loud thump on the floor. Padmé could not help but chuckle as a few nuts and bolts came loose, landing on the floor of the hangar like a packet of loose change. Gushes of smoke and steam appeared out of the vents lining the ramp; a pair of black boots suddenly became visible, pausing for a second to let the ramp settle onto the floor.

"You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought," Padmé said half-jokingly, approaching the ramp with just a sliver of caution.

-

Han Solo was not quite sure what to think.

As the steam and smoke cleared, all he could see was a mass of white, a ghostly vision emerging from behind the thick carpet of fog. As he descended, the hazy image seemed to glimmer and ebb; going closer, he could just about make out the figure of a beautiful young woman. She was clad in a tight white jumpsuit, with a heavy cloak strung about her shoulders; in an instant a fleeting image of Leia, clad in her thermal snowsuit on Hoth, suddenly came into his mind. Suddenly reminded of his missing lover, it was all he could do to keep his mind on the task at hand as he stepped down from the ramp and came nearer to the woman on the floor.

Though she did not exactly look like Leia, it was clear that they were somehow related—the same brown hair, the same liquid eyes. Even their stance appeared identical; though she stood casually, the woman had an air of confidence and authority which seemed to be just below the surface of her calm character.

"Captain Solo?" she asked, looking up at him.

A familiar smirk appeared on his lips. "You got it," he replied. "Nice to meet you, Queen….uh, Senator…"

"Padmé will do," she responded.

Han nodded, conscious that a sudden awkwardness had descended upon his normally suave personality. Though he was quite used to dealing with all sorts of women—mercenaries, barmaids, and diplomats alike—this was a new sort of situation. He had women of high rank before, but this woman was not only a former queen and senator. She was…

Bringing a hand to scratch the back of his head, his smirk quickly turned to a serious expression. "Sorry 'bout all this, by the way," he said, tossing his head to indicate the _Falcon_'s sorry state. "I did a bang-up job on 'er right before we left Endor. Luke didn't give me much time to prepare. But she's a good ship. She made the Kessel Run in—"

"—twelve parsecs?" Padmé interjected, with a slight smile. She extended a white gloved hand to him, and he automatically took it. "Luke told me all about it."

"He did?" Han asked, gently helping her up the shaking ramp. As they clambered aboard, Padmé found herself in a dank, dirty hallway which curved around the length of the ship. "She's small, but fast. What she doesn't have in looks she makes up for in speed," he continued, his voice swelling with pride. "We won't have any trouble getting to Naboo. It'll be one hell of a reunion for you all, I reckon."

Padmé nodded, a smile growing on her lips as she thought of being reunited with Anakin once again. And meeting Leia…

"Luke tells me you have—" she began, only to be interrupted by a sudden metallic noise emanating from a side room. In a moment a protocol droid appeared in the hallway, its once golden sheen now darkened from the days it had spent helping the Alliance in the forests of Endor.

"I am sorry to interrupt, Captain Solo," he began, moving its arm upward as if signaling towards Han. "But it seems….oh! How rude of me. I did not know we were having guests. Greetings, Madam," it continued, with a slight bow. "I am See—"

"Threepio?" Padmé whispered, incredulously. She rushed forwards, catching the surprised droid by its shoulders. Luke had told her about the two droids his uncle had purchased from Jawa dealers four years ago; though he had insisted they were the same two droids who had belonged to her and Anakin during the Clone Wars, she swore she would not believe it until she saw it. "It _is_ you!"

"Oh dear!" Threepio ejected, surprised by Padmé's sudden show of recognition. "I am sorry Madam…but I do not recall you in any of my memory logs. I apologize for my inability to remember…it is quite impolite of me."

Han leaned back against the wall of the hallway, crossing his arms in bemusement. "Luke mentioned you knew Threepio," he told Padmé. "I thought you'd get a kick out of seeing him again."

Padmé nodded, turning back to give Han a smile. "Thank you," she said softly. She swiftly let go of the still-confused droid, with the grin still on her face. "Well, Threepio, it looks like we have a lot to catch up on."

"We do?" Threepio echoed, shaking his head. "I hope you have not mistaken me for another droid, madam. Sometimes we protocol droids appear very similar."

"I think the lady knows what she's talking about, Goldenrod," Han said, giving the droid a less-than-playful slap on the shoulder. "Now we don't exactly have time to stand around and chat, so if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna rev 'er up and get us into hyperspace.'

"Of course," Padmé answered. "The sooner we're out of here, the better."

Han quickly turn and set off towards the cockpit as a flustered Threepio took a long look at Padmé. "I am terribly sorry for faulty memory, Madam," he began. "A thousand apologies."

"You must have had a memory wipe after Mustafar," Padmé answered reflectively. "Well…it doesn't matter any more."

"May I inquire your name?"

"Padmé…Padmé Amidala."

"My, that name does seem familiar." Threpio's brightly-lit eyes seemed to suddenly glow with faint recognition. "Ah, I remember now. I am not much of a historian, but I do know a thing or two about galactic history. You may find this surprising, but you share your name with a pre-Imperial senator from—"

"Sena…uh, Padmé?" Han's voice echoed from down the hallway. Turning her face away from Threepio, she saw Han half-emerge from the cockpit, his upper body visible as he leaned out of the rusted door.

"You might want to sit up here with me," Han continued awkwardly as she came nearer. "The sector turbulence is pretty bad over Coruscant. Might do you some good to strap yourself in 'til we make the jump."

Truth be told, he wasn't quite sure how to act around her. There were really only three types of women he was used to dealing with, and he had devised elaborate scripts for playing their little games. To Mon Mothma and the other women of the Alliance, he was distant and businesslike; to the girls he used to meet at spaceports around the galaxy, he was suave and charming. The third category of women consisted of just one person—Leia. With Leia he had developed a sort of understanding, a balanced mix of playfulness and honestly which had somehow evolved into a deep relationship.

Padmé fit none of those categories; she was Luke and Leia's mother, and as such, Han suddenly felt as though to look after her at all costs. Still, this was a completely new type of situation to him; though he had countless girlfriends and pseudo-relationships before Leia, he never had to play "meet the parents" before. He had already made a rather bad impression upon Anakin, but making good impressions on former Sithlords had never been his strong point. And though Luke had assured him that Anakin would do nothing to harm Leia…as Darth Vader, he had been eager to inflict torture upon her.

"Wouldn't want anything happening to you…you being Luke and Leia's mother…and all…you know," he finished awkwardly.

Padmé smiled at his invitation, noting the nervous tones in his voice. Perhaps there was more to the scruffy-looking pilot than she had previously thought. "Sure, Han," she said, stepping away from the momentarily-forgotten Threepio.

Still confused, Threepio watched as Padmé moved to the doorway of the cockpit. "Well, then…I shall go prepare for departure in the main hold," the droid announced to no one in particular. Quickly noting that no one had heard him, his circuits sputtered out an electronic version of a sigh. "I do hope that Mistress Padmé was not offended," he said to himself as he shuffled back to his familiar position in front of the holo-chess board.

The cockpit's doorway itself was partially blocked off by wires blown out of a panel on the ceiling; brushing them away with her arm, Padmé ducked to avoid a fallen transmission box that balanced precariously on a make-shift ledge. The _Falcon_'s dashboard was in great disarray; everywhere, it seemed, live wires emerged from behind the panels, dangling helplessly among tubes and burnt-out buttons. Though Han, Lando, and Chewie had labored to return the _Falcon_ to her former condition, there were clearly weeks of work ahead. The only space that retained even a slight semblance of organization was the main control panel, where Han was rapidly punching several switches in no seeming pattern. Silently marveling at the poor condition of the vessel—and praying that it would hold together during the flight to Naboo—she strapped herself into the empty co-pilot's chair as Han started making preparations to depart.

"Didn't bring my first mate," he remarked absently as Padmé noted a small wisp of coarse brown hair clinging to the hyperdrive button on the control panel.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I'm not such a bad pilot myself."

-

"Ship in Hangar Four East took off a few minutes ago," the Togruta hangar attendant drawled, lifting his head-tails up from his half-lounging position against the hangar's control panel. "If you were looking for someone on there, you just missed 'em."

The cloaked figure cocked its head, and slowly folded its arms over its chest. After a half-minute of silence, the human-looking mouth broke into a slow smile.

"It's alright," a smooth, calculating voice whispered. "I'll just have to catch them at a better time."

-

To be continued.

Coming up: Leia and Anakin are en route to Naboo, albeit through rather shady means of transport. Meanwhile, Han and Padmé soar through the skies on the Falcon's wings. And last, on his X-wing, comes Luke. Everything seems set up for a perfect reunion…right? Stay tuned for the next chapter!!

End notes: Alright guys, it's been a year since I last updated! My last chapter was published January 11, 2008…today it's January 6, 2009. A rather long hiatus, eh? I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I had a particular difficulty writing the scenes with Han and Padmé, and they ended up coming out quite awkwardly. I was trying to envision how Han would act towards Padmé in a situation like that. He wouldn't be stiff and formal as with Mon Mothma, but he wouldn't be all buddy-buddy like is with Lando and Chewie. So in the end, Han comes out acting…awkwardly, because he doesn't know how to act! I already stated this in the story, but I hope I was able to write it with at least a little bit of finesse.

So, I'll say it right now…this story hasn't been abandoned. But unfortunately, it's hard to me to finish new chapters…I mean, this one took a whole year! So it might be a while before the next one comes out. Hold tight, though! There are plenty of other amazing SW fanfics out there, so there's plenty to keep everyone occupied. I know I'll be reading them!

VFSNAKE: Nope, Luke and Anakin's plans keep getting thwarted! Poor them.

Valkyrie Nienna Helyanwe: Well, here's the new chapter! A Skywalker reunion? Maybe…just maybe it will happen. Eventually.

ILDV: Haha I guess I get another welcome back…after a year!

fictionfrek101: Yeah, Luke calling on Han to help him out was a bit predictable. But I needed some way to get Han involved in the main storyline…he couldn't be stuck on Endor while everyone else is having fun!

Baby Daydreamer Wiley: I'm glad you liked it!

StormieSkywalker: Yay, someone who likes my Luke/Padmé interactions! Yup, this was the chapter of revealing secrets, though not all of them have surfaced yet.

elrina753: Wow, I'm glad I changed your mind about the "Anakin regeneration" storyline. Though the story seems to have deviated from that quite a bit, eh?

Vicster's Jar of Dirt: It HAS been a while, my friend. Hope all's well with you! And yeah, Han is just one big lovesick puppy hehe.

SOONsoonSOON: Han deserves another medal for all I've put him through! Haha. Maybe he and Anakin should go drinking together. Then they can have a contest where Han will quickly beat him!

SkyBlueSw: Haha hangovers are the worst!! I hate having them, and so try to have them as little as possible. But my very first one was…yeah…not fun.

The Chaotic Soul of Demons: Yeah, my interest in SW fluctuated so much between writing Chapter 15 and writing this!!

PadawanMom: Haha I did end up taking as long for the next one!! I hope Han's reaction to the truth is satisfactory.

Beth Weasley: Haha! And another new chapter finally. I do wish I was more active in writing fanfic, but real life calls. I'm graduating from college this year and getting a job, so….eeek!

DanaeMariSkywalker: Hey there! Actually, the lightsaber Obi-Wab gave to Padmé is his own. I'd like to think Obi-Wan made another one on Tatooine.

dragonflysky: Thank you!!

elven-cat2: Ha! Hopefully I can incorporate a discussion of Anakin's drunkenness into a future chapter or something.

Hieiko: Well, Luke IS worried! Of course, he just doesn't know how well Anakin and Leia are getting along with each other.

mlhkvh5: Yes, I love Skywalker family reunions too! Let's just hope this one happens eventually. But yeah, Han does need some time to forgive Anakin.

ElusiveMaverick: Yes, I wanted to have Leia feel some sort of protectiveness for Anakin, since lately it's the boys who have been feeling protective lately.

ILDV: Oh man, I LOVE that suggestion! If this story had been a comedy, having Han think Anakin is Luke's brother would be priceless! Don't worry though…I don't think you're crazy at all. I mean, look at me!

Yashida: Han is pretty worried about Leia, though it didn't end up coming out in the chapter as much as I would have liked it to!

Sakura Lucy Li: I'm glad you liked it! I love the idea of Luke and Ani together, so I hope I did some justice to the idea.

Alien Roxi: Yay, I was able to write humor well! I find comedy so hard to write, so I'm happy you liked it!

XXX: Wow, a Sithlady? Quite an honor!!

The Epic Tale of Eternality: Although this wasn't very soon, I'm glad you're enjoying my fic!!

Nel: I'm glad you liked my story, and hope I haven't disappointed you!!

indigrl: Hey there! Yup, to break up the "duos" that the Skywalker family finds themselves in (Luke/Padmé, Leia/Anakin) I decided to shake it up and put Padmé with Han instead. And don't worry…I have a pretty clear vision of where this story is headed. I just thought it might be fun if I tapped into anyone's head and saw if they had any plotbunnies that needed to be written! But thank you so much for your support.

Karakot: Haha…not very soon, I'm afraid, but it's here nonetheless!

The Dark Lord Redrall: Now I have broken it up and stuck Padmé with Han instead! This kind of breaks off the Luke/Padmé for a while, so hopefully this new duo is up to par with my old one.

Shaitanah: Yay, thank you! One of my biggest concerns was having the characters be as IC as possible…I've seen some great fics ruined when someone suddenly turned into a sap, even when their personality dictates they wouldn't be.

Allie-grrl4: You got it, sister!

Rose-Aislin: I think Padmé in carbonite would make a great action figure, come to think of it!

Tagere: Here ya go!

kenobigirlliz: Hmm, I never quite thought of it as an Ani redemption fic…but I guess it is, in a way! Among the many other things it is…

jaz-lil-bai: Haha hopefully the rebellion will never find out…Mon Mothma would not be too pleased.

I'd also like to say that, while I have a fully sketched-out idea of where this story is headed, I would love to hear input from you reviewers! So please make any suggestions and comments you want…I'm listening. I want to make this story amazing, so if you have an idea for a certain situation, please tell me! I also love speculation, so feel free to go wild with that! Allayloo ta nuv!


	17. Detour

Note: All Star Wars elements belong to George Lucas.

Here are the alias all the main characters are using!

Anakin: Ani Naberrie

Leia: Winter Antilles

Padmé: Winama Thule

Han: Jonash Thule

Ameliora

Chapter 17: Detour

by ArchFaith

Naboo, the planet of green, rolling meadows and deep, quiet lakes. With a culture so sophisticated and civilized that its architectural masterpieces seemed only like extensions of the planet itself, it was no wonder that so many wanderers found themselves lost under its enchanting spell. Or so the tourism logs advised, anyway.

Shaking himself out of his timely reverie, Anakin quickly reminded himself that such a romantic view of Naboo would only contribute to his disappointment once he arrived. After all—he would have had no major ties to the planet had it not been for Padmé. Though he did not doubt the planet's natural beauty, his best memories were only enhanced by her presence. Walking along the terrace in the Lake Territory, the sun glinting off her smooth skin; sitting in the high plains, watching the immense waterfalls with their rising mist…

In his vacant stare, he had not noticed that Leia was looking at him with a calm expression set upon her face. Anakin's devotion to Padmé had been unwavering, even after all those long, dark years as Darth Vader. If there was anything she hoped to inherit from her father, she silently wished it would be to have a loyalty as strong and unyielding as his.

"We should be at Naboo shortly," she began.

Anakin cocked his head, slowly focusing his eyes on her as he quickly returned from his sojourn into the past. "Good," he said brusquely. "Two days of staring up at the wall have made me a bit…anxious."

Next to him, Artoo let out a few affirmative beeps.

"I just hope Luke's been doing alright," Leia answered, frowning. For the last few days, Luke had not attempted to reach out to her through the Force; though she had tried contacting him through the strong bond which they shared, it had done little to calm her nerves. All she could sense was the vague feeling that he was alive, though in what form and what capacity was uncertain.

"He got my message," Anakin assured him. "Have some faith, Princess. After all, Luke is—"

"—my brother?" she shot back at him. Crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes suddenly turned defensive. "I know, I know. It's just that—"

Her explanation was swiftly drowned out by a loud crackling noise that seemed to be coming out of a small fixture near the door. Father and daughter looked to each other in confusion, listening closely as the crackling grew to a faint, steady hum.

"—up here," a low, crackled voice finished saying, as the first part of his sentence had been hacked away. "I repeat: Naberrie, Antilles. It would be wise for you to get up here as soon as possible." Dengar's deep tones, though cut and mutilated by the low quality of the speaker, rang through the spare cabin in a low roar.

Giving each other confused looks, both rose spontaneously. "Stay here, Artoo," Leia commanded, patting the droid's plated dome. Worried, Artoo whistled twice, swiveling its dome to the side as Anakin and Leia filed out the door of the cabin.

Dengar was sitting in the captain's chair, his eyes focused on the large viewing window in front of the cockpit as the pair approached. Without turning his head, the bounty hunter signaled them closer with a small wave of his hand. "Look," he commanded simply.

Only a few minutes before, Naboo had seemed just another small, twinkling star on the _Punishing One's_ radar systems; having emerged from hyperspace only fifteen minutes prior, the planet's outline and shape were visible, though just barely, to the naked eye. Now, as they approached the swirling mass of green and blue, less natural structures became apparent.

Though an inhabited planet, especially a core world like Naboo, was always expected to have somewhat crowded airspace, the traffic around the planet seemed unusually dense. Vessels of every type—from small tourist shuttles to personal one-seater fighter crafts to large, troop-bearing transporter ships seemed to be congregating in small circles high above the planet's atmosphere. Rising and cutting through these ships were immense circular space stations, the only stationary objects in the sky. Though there seemed to be some kind of pattern to the madness, it was not immediately discernible; the vessels seemed to be slowly gravitating towards the space stations, but the cause and procedure left much to be desired.

"Unless I've missed something," Dengar began, more to himself than anyone else, "there should be no trouble going on over Naboo at this time. Nothing of this scale, anyway." Knitting his eyebrows, he flipped several switches on the dashboard's communications panel. "Looks like they're only letting a few ships onto the planet at a time."

"Could it be a blockade?" Anakin asked, his mind racing back to this childhood, to the Trade Federation's spiral space station that held Naboo isolated from the outside world.

"We'll see," Dengar answered him shortly, as a red light on the dashboard suddenly began flashing. He reached out and touched it with a gloved hand. "This is the _Punishing One_, over. What's happening over here?"

The voice on the other end either did not hear him or chose to ignore him. "_Punishing One_, please reduce your speed to comply with Imperial airspeed limits, over."

Dengar frowned. "Roger that," he said begrudgingly, flipping a few switches to his left. Anakin and Leia immediately felt the ship slow as they both lurched forwards; Anakin quickly grabbed hold of the back of Dengar's chair, and caught Leia around the waist as the ship's speed quickly reduced to something more of a crawl.

"Sorry about that," Dengar said, eyeing his two traveling companions for the first time since they entered. "You'd think that with the Emperor dead, these lackeys would have better things to than regulate commerce on a planet like this."

Leia turned to give Anakin a meaningful glance as Dengar continued his transmission.

"Alright, speed reduced to comply. Now care to explain what's going on here?" he repeated.

The voice on the other hand end filtered back, in a cold, feminine accent. "The entire planet of Naboo has, by Imperial decree, been placed under quarantine pending investigation of a virulent attack that has killed several thousand people throughout the planet. Access to Naboo will be denied to all foreign vessels until they have formally passed through the checkpoints. All organic substances must be presented for Imperial inspection."

_This can't be happening, _Anakin thought, furrowing. They were so close to meeting up with Luke; if it wasn't the Rebel Alliance that would be on their backs, it would be the Imperial remnants, surely.

"Our scanning systems indicate that you have sentient beings on board your ship," the voice continued. "Please prepare all travel documents necessary and present yourselves for inspection at Space Station G-Sixty-Eight. Over."

With the characteristic snap signaling the end of a connection, Dengar flipped his transmitter switch off and turned to Anakin and Leia. "Looks like we're going to be a little delayed coming down on Naboo," he said calmly. "Bit annoying."

Leia shook her head, her face growing into a scowl. "More than just an annoyance," she said absently.

_We can't put ourselves into Imperial hands, _she thought calmly, feeling Anakin attune to her mind.

_We won't,_ he replied. "Well," he began matter-of-factly, looking over to the calculating bounty hunter. "I hope we haven't put you in a bad place."

Dengar regarded him with a scowl. "Don't tell me you're wanted by the Empire?" he asked incredulously.

"Not exactly," Anakin replied. "Let's just say that my partner and I have had some dealings with them before…and we don't care to deal with them again. But I doubt they'll let us pass without some kind of commotion."

"Meaning that I would be held as an accomplice, harboring fugitives from the Imperials," Dengar finished, with a scowl on his face. "Just my lucky day." He quickly flipped a button,

setting the ship to auto-pilot as he quickly stood.

"Get your droid and your supplies," he said brusquely to the pair.

"What are you planning to do with us?" Leia asked, frowning.

Dengar gave them a shrug. "Dealing with any Imperial entanglements is your problem, really," he asked. "But out of goodness of my heart, I'll give you a head start."

(-)

"The entire planet of Naboo has, by Imperial decree, been placed under quarantine pending investigation of a virulent attack that has killed several thousand people throughout the planet. Access to Naboo will be denied to all foreign vessels until they have formally passed through the checkpoints. All organic substances must be presented for Imperial inspection."

In a gesture of disbelief, Han brought his first down on the dashboard, a frown upon his face. "All that way just for this?" he sputtered angrily.

Padmé shot him a worried glance. "No way," he said reflectively, looking up at the massive space stations circling the green planet before him. "This must have been some kind of inside job. I'll bet you there's no attack going on down there at all."

Padmé shook her head expressively. "Whatever it is, we'll have to find a way to slip through," she whispered. "You've done this before, haven't you? Sneaking into places, I mean."

Han gave her a small grin as he flipped a couple of switches on the dashboard. "Luke told you about the Death Star job, eh?" he asked, pleased. "More of a fluke than anything else, but hey—we got it where it counts."

He directed his attention back to the view screen in front of them. "This might be a bit difficult, but I've been through a lot worse. There are tons of ship that look exactly like this one—and trust me, those Imperial grunts have seen so many faces in their lives they probably couldn't pick their own mother outta the crowd."

Padmé smiled to herself. _Leia_, she thought simply.

Han, oblivious to his own reference, quickly stood up. "Luke gave you what you need?"

Snapping back to reality, Padmé quickly nodded. "I have identification as Winama Thule, from Bespin. Documents and everything."

Han smirked. Though it had only been a few hours, Padmé had proven herself to be a good traveling companion—though he had been unsure as to how to act around her, her light-heartedness and sense of humor quickly put him at ease.

The Millenium Falcon's journey to Naboo had been smooth enough; Padmé had accompanied him in the cockpit through the entirety of the voyage. To no surprise, he found her cheerful manner and regal way of talking reminiscent of Leia; the only difference between them being Padmé's patience and laid-back attitude. Leia was much more fierce and aggressive; qualities she had inherited from her father, it seemed.

He had initially thought that making conversation between them would be difficult, as they did not have much in common. But Padmé had a certain quality to her words and gestures—elegant but welcoming. He had found himself opening up to her more than he had expected—answering questions about his first meeting with Luke in the cantina on Tatooine, expanding on his terror at being frozen in carbonite, and discussing Leia's attempt to rescue him from Jabba's palace. And so time had passed—rather quickly, it seemed. Everything had been going so well…

With a shake of his head, Han quickly reached towards a flap on the dashboard and pulled out a new-looking identification book. "And I'm Jonash Thule, your loving brother." He chuckled in disbelief. "Some family you got."

"What about Threepio?"

"Him? He's fine. Always gets himself out of trouble. They don't really bother to scan the droids, anyway. Besides, Goldenrod wouldn't be able to tell them much."

"Captain Solo? Oh, sir!" Threepio, upon hearing his familiar nickname, appeared in the doorway to the cockpit. "Have you seen the vessels encircling the planet? Dear me, how are we ever to get to the surface now? It seems quite a dangerous undertaking! I would suggest—"

Padmé quickly reached out, pulled Threepio closer to her. "Oh, madam! Do you need me to amplify my tones? I—will—reeeeeeeepeeeeeeeat—"

With a sudden click, the lights in Threepio's eyes sputtered and died; the droid slouched over, silent and frozen in place.

"He talks too much," Padmé said reflectively, a satisfied look on her face. "But I'm sure you know that already."

In response, Han came forwards, giving her a hearty pat on the back. "You're my kind of girl, Padmé."

(-)

"That's the last of it." Leia stopped to breathe, wiping her sweating forehead with the sleeve of her jumpsuit. "All our supplies." She stopped to let out a light sigh. _I can't believe this._

Anakin reached out and gently rubbed her shoulder, feeling the tense muscles beneath the slippery fabric of the suit. _It will be fine,_ he soothed.

_I suppose, _she answered. _I'm just so tired of being diverted from our goals. _Shaking her head, she threw a glance over at Dengar, who was preoccupied in the corner of the spare escape pod.

Dengar had not been willing to incriminate himself for their sakes—understandable. The only alternative he offered them, however, did not seem all that appetizing.

"You've got everything and your droid?" the bounty hunter asked, looking up from his work. He had been repairing the escape pod's control systems; with an almost careless gesture, he flipped the control panel shut and rose from his kneeling position. "I don't want any traces of your supplies on my ship."

"We have everything," Anakin answered him, a grim look set on his face. "You won't have anything to worry about."

Dengar nodded gruffly. "I apologize for this," he began. "But you have to understand—the agreement was to get you to Naboo, not to sneak you past an Imperial checkpoint."

"We know," Leia assured him. "You did your part. And for that, thank you."

Dengar shook his head, the rags swaying against his neck. "Hope you have some kind of plan for once you get down there. This cloaking device should do the trick—it will phase out all signs of organic lifeforms aboard the ship. If anyone should scan it, all they'll pick up is your droid."

"What are you going to tell the Imperials if they ask where your other passengers went?" Anakin asked.

Dengar shrugged. "I'll just let them know we had an argument and that I was forced to…eliminate the threat to my life and that of my colleague."

Leia nodded. "You sure you won't miss this escape pod?"

Dengar shook his head. "Losing an escape pod is better than being captured for harboring fugitives wanted by the Empire," he answered. "Best get going."

Anakin nodded, and lowered his head to step into the pod's round hatch. Leia followed him, and the two buckled themselves into the pod's shabbily-padded emergency seats. Artoo had already been secured by the control panel, his legs fastened to an emergency handle by some cords and lengths of wire.

"Good luck," Dengar said ceremoniously. He reached up and gently pushed the heavy door inwards, sealing them into the small chamber. Though the walls were supposedly soundproof, his movements could still be heard outside the chamber as he pushed several buttons and flipped switches on the control panel, maneuvering the pod into position to launch.

Father and daughter were silent as they felt the pod slowly begin to move away from the side of the ship. Outside the small porthole, Naboo could be seen in all its splendor. _So close.,.._

With a sudden jolt, the pod darted away from the ship. Anakin and Leia found themselves pinned down the uncomfortable seats as the pod hurtled away from the _Punishing One_, turning the spinning as it fell through space.

_This plan better work_, Leia thought, furrowing her brow as the pod narrowly missed a piece of debris that looked like it had come from a Rebel ship. _With our luck we'll be intercepted before we can even break the atmosphere. _

_The cloaking device do the trick,_ Anakin soothed as he was pushed back into his seat by the pod's jerking motions. _I paid him enough for it, anyway…_

Dengar looked through the viewing window, observing the pod as it tore through space and away from his ship. Shaking his head, he turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"I knew you don't much care for company, old friend," he said, a sly expression forming on his face. "But they had funds. Enough to pay for your medical bills."

He turned, allowing his friend a good luck through the viewing window. "But I didn't want to get involved with the Empire again. Look where that got us last time, eh?"

The other man stepped up to the window, pulling his simple tunic closer around his body. His dark eyes watched the fast-disappearing pod as it neared the Naboo atmosphere, emitting sparks of energy as it descended below the viewing window.

"I'll just tell the blockade that I was forced to seal some hostile companions in the pod after an attempt on our lives. They'll assume that the impact into the atmosphere killed them. They won't bother to check the pod once it lands."

For the first time in days, the man spoke. "You could have just killed them," he offered simply. "It would have saved you some trouble."

Dengar smiled and shook his head. "What would you have done?"

The man furrowed his brow, smoothing his dark hair close to his head. "I would have let them live. They committed no wrongdoing against us."

"So why suggest to kill them?"

"Most hunters would have killed them without a second thought. I thought maybe you would be the same."

Dengar gave his friend a slap on the back. "Being in that hell pit on Tatooine must have shot your brains a bit," he said playfully. "We hunters still have our honor. You should know that, Mandalorian."

The other man allowed a trace of a smile to show through his rough exterior. "My thanks for your help with the Sarlaac, Dengar. But I think it's time I suited up and paid you for my debts."

"Feeling better, huh?" Dengar asked. "You never were a man of leisure, Fett."

(-)

To be continued.

Next chapter: Everyone is converging for a reunion on Naboo! Anakin, Leia, and Artoo; Han, Padmé, and Threepio; Luke and Arfour; and even Dengar and Fett are getting in on this? But how exactly is this meeting supposed to happen, anyway? And…where are they all going to meet up? What about the mysterious person who's tracking Han and Padmé? Find out in the next chapter of Ameliora…when it comes!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter…it's been quite some time since I last published anything. I love SW forever and ever. Thank you for reading, and I hope the next chapter isn't too far away from happening.

Also, thank you everyone who has reviewed! I would normally respond to everyone individually to thank you, but I feel that it's been so long since I last put up a chapter that it wouldn't really matter. As always, if anyone has any suggestions for Ameliora, please let me know. I have a clear idea of where this story is going, but I'm always up for putting in small comedic situations, cameos, etc.


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